


The Harsh Light of the Morning After

by LateToThePartie



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Angst, Battle, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rape, Scheming, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 69,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateToThePartie/pseuds/LateToThePartie
Summary: An abduction and a week together.  Rescued and now with six months between them, Kore has to decide what she wants when she returns to the harsh king of the underworld.Set against the backdrop of the Persian Invasion of Greece.There will be lots of angst at first, but eventually things will turn erotic.This is not related to my other H&P fic.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 190
Kudos: 318





	1. The Morning After the Rescue

She found herself crying again, hot tears of frustration burning paths down her cheeks she didn’t bother to wipe away. In the last week, she had cried for her mother and cried again when she realized her fate. Now, safely back, albeit temporarily, she found herself crying again. The motive, this time, was not so clear to her. Or perhaps it was and she merely wanted to ignore its meaning.

Ignore it she did, but she couldn’t stop the tears. It was night time anyhow, and the nymphs slept easily nearby, they on the ground, the goddess on a couch. No one was there to witness her sadness, to conclude what she had yet to admit to herself, a betrayal so deep she wondered if she knew herself anymore. She was as alone as she was going to be for the next six months, and a loneliness settled into her breast, an unwelcome guest that silently commanded her attention. She was teetering on a line.

Kore or Persephone? Which was she to be?

She thought back to Hades’ parting words. “You cannot see it now, but I am a good husband. _Will_ be a good husband when you return to me.” They were uttered in the same manner he always spoke, patiently, thoughtfully, and carefully.

_And what is a good husband? Have I seen such a man be it god or mortal?_ Certainly, her own father was not the example to follow. Neither was Poseidon, if the stories Hermes related to her were true. And then there were her suitors: Ares, Apollo, and Hermes himself. Ares had been passionate in his affections, but had he not pursued Aphrodite with such lust? Who was she to compete with the goddess of love and beauty? Apollo was persistent, filled with sweet lyrics to tempt her away, yet such poetry he wrote regularly for whomever caught his eye. Who was she to think she would be his only inspiration? And Hermes, good with words like his elder brother, Apollo, and as lusty as him too; but he was also patient and calm, and these traits she admired though she would never be able to look past his many indiscretions. Who was she to think he would never lie to her?

She had rejected her suitors without hesitation, accepting her fate as an unwed virgin. Hades had upended that and now that she was married but yet in an unconsummated marriage, who was she to accept any less than his promise to be a good husband? She knew very much what she didn’t want; she just had to decide what she _did_ want.

She had dozens of other questions, all variants of the same core decision she was trying to make: should she give herself over to him when she returned?

Certainly, she could reign as queen by his side as Persephone, command authority and make realm-impacting decisions. This was the queen he sought. He as much said so when he granted her equal share of his realm.

_What of wifely duties?_ She knew a little of what was expected from a woman, having observed mortals and nymphs. She supposed she could give herself over to his passions, which he had yet to display beyond a gentle embrace. She may be ignorant of such practices, but she was not naïve. His genteel demeanor with her surely masked the inner passion that had driven him to grab her from her fields. He was known for his patience. How patient would he be with her? Was he someone else’s good lover right now? How long would he wait for her? Though she had yet to share his bed, the thought that he might turn to another during these six months roused an unfamiliar feeling within her, one she had never felt before, but which she knew to be jealousy.

Vulnerable. Could she be vulnerable? Could she unwind this tight coil in her chest that had been present for years, her deep secret longing for a partner’s embrace? Would he be a good lover? She imagined that he would be or perhaps she wanted to imagine that he would be as part of his promise to be a good husband. His word was law in the underworld. She could not assume now that he would be faithless, yet all the logic she used to soothe her mind did little to cool the fire within her.

There was only one solution she thought – she needed to send him a message. She rolled onto her back and gazed up at the clear, star-studded night sky. Despite the warm breeze, its humidity still chilled her skin or perhaps it was the overwhelming loneliness of the night, of being surrounded by friends who were strangers that made her cold.

**************

She hated Hades in the morning, but then again she also hated Helios. The light of Helios cast a warmth on her face; what once was the marker of a new glorious day of spring was now a harsh reminder of her fate. She should not curse the sun-god for he was merely being honest in the face of many dying mortals and her own mother’s grief. Yet perhaps he could have held his words a little longer, long enough for her to spend more than a week in the underworld. Long enough for her to learn about her husband before deciding if she wanted him. Long enough to decide if eating the seeds were the right choice.

She shouldn’t hate Helios, but in this shining moment she did and that thought made his light feel like it was burning across her skin. She hated Hades in this moment, though she didn’t understand why she should. The only difference between last night and this morning was the light and her emotions. This shifting, this uncertainty was unbearable.

A gentle hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her inner turmoil. She snapped her head around and looked at the kind face of a nymph. “Gentle Kore, your mother wishes you to return to the house for morning meal. Come.” When she did not respond, the nymph gently grabbed the goddess’s hand and tugged slightly. Numbly, she stood and followed the nymph, her mind suddenly fuzzy.

She sat quietly at the table, the smell of fried oil drifting in through an open door. Despite their status as goddesses, despite their wealth, Demeter insisted on simple living. The young spring goddess had a moment to observe her mother through the open back door as she fried tiganites in a small pan over an open fire. Demeter could will the meal into existence. She could order the nymphs to cook it. She did not do this. It simply was not her way.

The meal was a simple one, but the spring goddess knew that her mother made it special for her as it was her childhood favorite. Tiny pieces of fried dough, pancake-like, topped with honey and, if she were lucky, served with figs, all piled on a small and worn terracotta plate. The gesture was not lost on the young goddess, and yet the kindness was marred by darker thoughts. _The child of the harvest goddess is returned. The child will return to her life._

Demeter set the plate down in front of her daughter who jumped slightly at the intrusion, lost in her thoughts again. “I made your favorite. Enjoy my sweet daughter.” Demeter then leaned down behind her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, continuing, “I am so glad my precious Kore is home.” Something twisted in her stomach. She should enjoy the meal in front of her for it looked and smelled delicious. But the name _Kore_ had sounded hollow to her and she felt very close to making her mind up.

Demeter sat down next to her, resting her cheek on her hand, her black hair piled on top of her head in loose ringlets. Her eyes were tired, but a smile still graced the face of the harvest goddess. Usually Demeter and her daughter would dine alone together at every meal but today she simply sat there.

Picking up a sticky, small pancake, the spring goddess thought back to last week, to the first time Hades bid her dine with him.

_“Do you mean to stand there and watch me eat? Meals are more enjoyable when they are consumed and not observed,” Hades had asked carefully, continuing to lounge on his couch, never taking his eyes from the wine-soaked barley bread and olives in front of him. When she paused in response longer than expected, he looked over at her, his face calm and unreadable. Slowly, he sat up on the couch and faced the table, though he kept his head turned and eyes locked on his captive bride._

_Clearing her throat, she said, “I have observed that other gods and, indeed, mortal men as well, do not dine with the women in their lives, but eat first and leave the rest to their wives and children.”_

_He smiled, but it was not kind, “Lest you think I am ignorant of all things above, I am fully aware of this practice.” He shrugged and continued, “I see no value in it.” He patted the seat next to him and said, “Come and dine with me.”_

_His opinions were strange and his assumptions were irritating. She replied, “Indeed I am hungry, but I am aware of the rules here. Consume of the underworld and remain its captive.” It was a lazy trap if indeed that was his intention._

_It was not. He sighed and said, “Yes, yes, which is why I had this brought in from the mortal world. Do not think me such a barbarian as to trick you like that.”_

_Persephone let a small smile reach her lips and moved to sit next to him, but as far away as she politely could. He observed all of this, but said nothing, waiting for her to speak next. Finally, she asked, “The wine you poured over the barley bread does not look dilute. Mother says that is uncivilized.” She tacked on the last sentence to irritate him, to get under his skin, but she also realized in that moment how many of her opinions were based off of what her mother had told her._

_He laughed a little and then smirked. “Uncivilized perhaps. But we are immortals and do not have a reason to dilute wine. The humans do this to ensure their water is clean. We could drink the muddiest, most brackish water and never fall ill.” He picked up the bread and turned to feed her a bite. She felt it both forward and intimate, but she still hesitated. “I quite find that pure wine is more delicious than the watered-down dreck mortals drink,” he continued. Convinced that the meal before her was not a trick and that she was quietly rebelling against her mother’s wishes in the smallest of ways possible, she opened her mouth and took a tiny bite. It was strong and delicious and she definitely would not verbally acknowledge this._

“Do you not take morning meal with me, mother?” she asked suddenly.

Demeter, still smiling, looked away and said, “My stomach has not yet returned to me. The week I –” She cut herself off, reluctant to refer to the pain of the week her daughter was missing. “Anyhow, you are returned and are eating. Everything else will heal in time.”

She knew her mother assumed the worst of Hades and for some reason she could not abide that. Who was she to not defend her husband? Who was she to defend her abductor? “I do not have so much to heal inside as you might assume.”

The harvest goddess ceased smiling and furrowed her eyebrows. “Nothing to heal? Ripped from these lands and my nurturing arms into the cold and dark underworld. To be used by that disgusting letch for his dark desires.”

She was walking a line here. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “After the abduction, he treated me with nothing less than respect.”

Demeter scoffed, “How can you defend that monster? Surely he made you share his bed, my child.”

Meeting her mother’s gaze, she said with quiet firmness, “He did not make me do anything I did not wish to.”

The elder goddess grimaced, asking, “Does that mean you willingly went to him? Or did you refuse him?”

Biting into a fig, the young goddess sat thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “No, I do not think it your business to know.” In truth, her calmness hid the fear that her mother would realize the marriage was unconsummated and demand Zeus to release her. The seeds were binding, she was told, so she did not worry about being released from her contract. However, the thought of having to discuss her sexual or non-sexual experiences was more than she could bear.

Demeter stood up, a dark flush creeping up her bronzed neck and cheeks, her hazel eyes glinting. “Disrespectful child! I see he has taught you to despise me. Does that also mean you willingly ate those seeds?” She took a deep breath and composed herself. Calmly, she said, “I know Hades. He is trickier than Hermes, better with words than Apollo, and more passionate than even Ares. He is gifted at convincing others to do what he wants and letting them think it was their own idea.”

_“I will not lie to you, my sweet Persephone. These seeds will bind you to the underworld. If you do not consume them, I cannot know if we will see each other again,” his words came urgently, but not harshly spoken._

Were those the words of a trickster? It did not seem so. “I did eat them willingly.”

Demeter frowned and sat back down, defeated. She was silent whilst her daughter finished her breakfast. When she spoke again, her words were quieter, as if the energy had been sucked out of her, “I have failed you as a mother. I did not warn you sufficiently of the nature of these gods.” Her eyes, glassy with unshed tears, met her daughter’s. “He is surely the worst corrupter of them all, able to convince my Kore to leave this glorious life behind.”

The young goddess had decided.

**************

He lay awake all night after she’d left, sprawled out on his back and naked, letting the coldness of the underworld chill his limbs so that they were as cold as his heart felt at that moment. Certainly Persephone hadn’t graced his bed in the week she had been in the underworld, but Hades had convinced himself that with enough time, she would have come to him. All he had to do was be patient and treat her well. That was the plan at least. He was angry, but couldn’t decide to whom he should direct it. Himself, for thinking that he could have happiness? Demeter, for being the unmovable, controlling mother of his dearest love? Zeus, for dangling the hope in front of him and then snatching it away when the mortals started dying? He thought back to the conversation which started it all.

_“My brother! What grim news brings you to Olympus?” Zeus said with a laugh as he wrapped his arm around his eldest brother’s shoulders._

_“Your children,” Hades replied somewhat sourly. “Artemis has sent a plague to a village for killing a bear. And Ares keeps sending souls to me through his bloody and ill-conceived wars.”_

_Zeus nodded and said, “I am aware of those and am handling it.”_

_Hades wasn’t entirely satisfied with the answer for he doubted that Zeus would punish his children as much as he should. Part of him didn’t care, for the workings of Olympus was – blissfully – not his domain. Besides, he now had the time to delay in the mortal realm and let himself indulge in a fantasy he knew would never happen. “All right, Zeus, then I will take my leave. The underworld waits for no one, including its king.”_

_Zeus tightened his grip on his brother’s shoulder. “Not so fast, Hades. I envy the efficiency with which you rule your kingdom but I confess that you lack the social graces a leader must have. I am your brother and yet I rarely see you. I *almost* begin to feel that you care not for me.”_

_Hades pursed his lips, but said nothing as Zeus led them out to a sun-soaked balcony._

_“Stay, have a bit of nectar with me,” Zeus said as he grabbed a cup from Ganymede and handed it to his brother before taking another for himself._

_Hades sipped the nectar, reluctantly letting its immortal properties warm his body. How long had it been since he had replenished himself? “I suppose I can indulge in a little conversation with my baby brother.”_

_Releasing his shoulder, Zeus stood at the edge of the balcony, looking out over Olympus and sighed heavily. “You know, I despise violence. Artemis I can handle; she is at least reasonable. I just don’t know what to do with that hateful lying son of mine. Wherever he is, he brings destruction. In a perfect world, my children would listen to me.”_

_Hades knew not how to respond. He was not one to dwell on what-ifs, but faced facts for what they were. “Perfection can’t exist. My job would be infinitely easier if so.”_

_Zeus turned to him and thoughtfully took a sip of his nectar. “There is nothing you wish for, my dear depressed Hades?”_

_“I am not depressed, Zeus. Merely realistic.” They faced each other, obvious brothers, but so very different from each other. Zeus said nothing, but took another sip, his eyes not leaving his brother. Hades sighed and said, “Fine. Yes, in a perfect world, I would wake each day next to the lovely goddess of spring.”_

_Zeus smiled into his cup and said, “Of all the things I thought you’d say, that was not it. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”_

_“Why would I? I am unsure that I will be able to convince Kore to love me and I am definitely sure her mother will not let her go,” he said, trying not to sound too defeated._

_Zeus smirked, “And what of her father? Surely he would give you leave to marry her, for you have so much to offer someone such as she.”_

_Hades raised a brow, although he had already guessed, “And who is her father? You? That was the only thing I was unable to discover. No one speaks of it.”_

_Zeus frowned and said, “Ah yes, that was Demeter’s choice. She told me that I already had too many children, that she existed in the mortal realm by necessity and that she would raise her child there. She saw no point in telling her offspring that they were one of many, that they mattered little to their father. Harsh truths indeed, but truths nonetheless. I conceded, I confess, because I did not want to hear it from Hera and because I was already so preoccupied with keeping my other children in line.” He thought for a moment and said, “I have heard that Kore is a lovely young lady, if not controlled by her mother. Perhaps Demeter was right? I do not know, but all things change and gods and goddesses alike must grow up eventually. Take her.”_

_Internally Hades winced at his brother’s language. He did not see Kore as an object to possess but as an individual to share his bleak existence with. Perhaps, he thought, such an existence would not be so bleak if shared with one so vibrant and radiant._

Damn Zeus and his stupid plans! Although Hades had to concede it was unlikely that a better plan existed. Still, Hades would have preferred unrequited love to this – whatever this was, for at least he could have indulged himself in the fantasy that Persephone would be a willing bride.

When the chill was too much, he grasped the corner of the blanket and carelessly threw it over him. Guiltily, he acknowledged his role in ending the life she knew and desperately wished to know if she were angry with him for creating this mess. Their parting had been swift, with little spoken between them. He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking that she was wasting time considering his words. Likely she was spending time with her mother, a joyful reunion for sure, surrounded by nymphs, flowers, and light. Wonderful things he could never offer her.

_But she ate the seeds._

Six long months wondering what she was thinking and doing. Six long months to listen to her mother denigrate him. Six long months to be courted by her previous suitors. He knew they had approached her before him and knew she (and Demeter) had rebuffed them. They were Olympians, of the loins of Zeus; they would return. Perhaps, he thought, since she was no longer a virgin in theory (if not in practice), they would try to convince her to stray, lend a supportive ear, cheer her up with songs and jokes. Letting his mind wander, were he to make assumptions, likely Hermes would be the one she would sneak off with, for he was young and vibrant much as Persephone was. He was also the least offensive of the Olympians. Hades had to stop this poisonous train of thought. Persephone had given no indication that she would stray, but then again, she had given no indication that she would ever come to his bed.

_But she ate the seeds._ He repeated this thought, telling himself it meant something. Why bind yourself to a dismal place if not because you see a future there?

He pulled the sheet with him as he turned to the side. It was morning he knew intrinsically without the presence of sunlight, and he had to get up soon to tend to his daily duties. Persephone had been a quick learner and he smiled to himself remembering how just a few days ago she walked by his side to learn how he managed his realm. In a given day, he was all over his kingdom, interacting with and providing counsel to his closest subjects, Hecate, the Furies, and the Judges. He would check the boundaries of his realm, ensuring no souls could escape, especially within Tartarus. She was capable, eager to learn, and he never felt so right in his decision as he did then when he saw the gleam in her eyes.

It would just be him today. Surely he had spent the majority of his life alone, but experiencing life with a queen, even an unwilling one, had ruined him forever. Hades didn’t know how he could go back to living as before.


	2. The Troubled Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot stuff. Hermes schemes.
> 
> I welcome all comments. I want to know what you love and hate.

The young god skittered along, but his light pace did not match his mood and a scowl graced his fine boyish features making him look younger than he already did. It was the same trip he did every week – Olympus to Enna and back again to deliver messages to and from Demeter. It was informal, so Hermes relayed the messages himself, but she always had a small parchment to provide to Zeus. At first he did not know what it was about, but after awhile he realized that it was likely to do with the child Demeter was rearing and that could only mean that Zeus was her father.

It didn’t change his perspective on anything. Demeter saw him as a boy and thusly not as a threat to her or her daughter. It worked to his benefit, for he loved children, and Kore was very special. Quietly intelligent and gentle, his heart had been stolen the minute she put her little hand around his thumb and squeezed with all her might with a giggle. Over the years he was there to help her learn things her mother thought useless, such as reading and writing.

He didn’t mean to fall in love with her – it was entirely an accident. When the bloom of adulthood began to grace her face and figure, Hermes suddenly found himself contemplating ways to make her his wife despite Demeter’s stance. He was the trickster god, were he not? That is why her sudden abduction by the great and powerful lord of the underworld was such a blow. Surely Hades was clever, but there was nothing clever about abduction and Hermes could not help but kick himself for letting her get away.

If he were honest with himself, which he didn’t feel particularly inclined to be at this moment, it was unlikely that Kore could have been prevailed upon to accept his marriage proposal. And as much as his father loved him, Hermes knew that Zeus would always favor his brother over his children. The young god did not have a permanent abode let alone a kingdom to share with the lovely goddess of spring. How could he compete? He sighed bitterly to himself. Of all of the things he could have imagined, being jealous of the god of the dead was not one of them.

Hermes walked along the halls of Olympus, but he bore no letter from Demeter, only harsh words for Zeus.

_“Tell that conniving bastard that if he wants to know how Kore is doing, he can come down here himself. I don’t need him and I don’t need “news” from Olympus. I should have never told Zeus when I was pregnant – kept it from him entirely!” Demeter ranted to Hermes._

_The god was temporarily winded, but he recovered his composure quickly enough. “Dearest Demeter, please speak with me. Is Kore all right? I returned her to you only a week ago.”_

_Demeter laughed bitterly, “Oh, you mean Persephone, right? Not a day returned to me and she’s adopting her underworld name. And she’s telling me about how wonderful he treated her. That letch corrupted her and she can’t even see it.”_

_Hermes’s stomach dropped. It was even worse than he thought – it was a matter of time before his dearest Kore was in love with the beast._

He grimaced wondering how he would be able to see Persephone again if he had no reason to visit. He heard a shuffling behind him, but refused to turn when an arrogant voice called out. “Oh my, Hermes, _dear brother_ you are looking very dour today.” Hermes ignored the voice and kept walking. “What, no quip? Guess the knowledge that the great king of the underworld has been ploughing the fertile fields of your beloved Kore _is_ irritating.”

Hermes frowned and then cast the look from his face. Turning around, he smiled at his brother and said, “Of course not, Apollo. I am merely sad for Kore; she weeps.”

Apollo cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the archway leading to the room he had just been. He was youthful, but not as boyish as Hermes. Apollo was slightly taller and slightly more muscular, although Hades was easily a head taller and double his weight. The only one who came close to matching Hades’s impressive physique was Ares, but even he was not as tall. The god of music and light resembled Zeus, were the king of the gods clean shaven: bronzed skin, golden blonde curly hair, and honey-amber eyes. Hermes, in comparison, had close-cut straight brown hair, freckled and tanned skin, and brown eyes. “And why does she weep, Hermes?”

Mimicking his stance, the young messenger feigned empathetic sadness and said, “She would not speak it, only weep into my arms.” He paused and then continued, “Do you think marriage should do such a thing?” Technically, he wasn’t lying. The spring goddess would not speak her heart, but based on his conversation with Demeter, he could not assume that her sadness was rooted in fear of her underworld spouse.

Apollo was not entirely convinced. “And was that the only comfort you provided to her – your open arms? Think you will slip between her open legs and slide her a personal message of comfort?”

“Is this a lyric from one of your songs? I expected such crass comments from Ares, not from the god of music.”

A deep laugh came from the room behind Apollo and shortly the large frame of the god of passionate warfare appeared next to his brother. “Messenger, I would dare you to say that to my face, but I know you are a disrespectful smartass.” He continued to laugh.

Hermes bowed and turned around to find his father. He had said his part to his brothers and he was sure it was a matter of time – a short time – before they went back to Persephone to plead their respective cases again. He could almost hear it: _All gods and goddess are unfaithful. A lover in spring and a husband for the fall!_

**************

Hermes smiled crookedly to himself as he made his way to the underworld, scroll in hand. The last several weeks had been both painful and joyful for him, for he had watched the great king of the underworld unravel under his own fears. To see the powerful lord of the dead work hard to hide his misery _did_ make Hermes feel better, he hated to admit. And best of all, his words to Apollo and Ares had been enough incentive for them to pay Kore a special visit behind Demeter’s back.

A voice stopped him just short of Hades’ palace. “You’re in an awfully good mood, even for you.”

Hermes turned towards the shadows and watched as a black-winged god, youthful as Hermes, stepped out into the dim ethereal light of the underworld. “Thanatos, how goes it? Bring any good souls to the underworld recently? Just yesterday I helped a priestess of Athena cross.”

Thanatos raised an eyebrow and said, “I brought in the wealthiest merchant in Athens two days ago.”

Hermes smirked and said, “Well, then, seems I must continue to find the best souls to cross, eh? But I am rude now – you wanted to know why I am in such a good mood. I confess, my brother in service, it is not a pleasant reason.”

The prospect of a little gossip brought Thanatos’ twin out of the shadows as well. “Ah, Hypnos! You two skulking around in the shadows certainly means trouble,” Hermes said delightedly. In truth he enjoyed their company and the competition with Thanatos. Hermes, ever the wanderer, could relate to them more than any other god or goddess. “Come walk with me.”

As they began to walk towards the palace, Hermes recounted the sad story of Persephone from _his_ perspective. Although they knew what had happened from what they had observed in the underworld, Thanatos and Hypnos were entranced by Hermes’s emphatic re-telling, for the additional mortal-realm details they hadn’t known. “…so you see his extra-sour mood is due to the loss of his great love. I am sure his mind is seething with uncertainty. He cannot go to her – Demeter would know and bring her ridiculous ire. He dare not ask me for he surely knows I was one of her suitors.”

“But, Hermes, surely you underestimate him? He is as tricky as you and as sour as Ares on his worst day,” Thanatos said, a little uneasy with Hermes’s flippant tone.

“He is naïve in the ways of the heart,” he replied nonchalantly, raising a palm up in the air. “Besides, it’s just a bit of fun for me. I cannot truly do anything to harm him, merely let him do that to himself. He won’t do anything to me – can’t really. Who would deliver all these messages and help bring souls? There is value to being the hardest working Olympian and Zeus and Hades both know this.”

“What do you plan?” Hypnos asked, intrigued.

Hermes removed the scroll from under his arm and waved it in front of him. “ _This_ is a sealed letter from Artemis.”

“Artemis?” the twins cried out in unison.

“Right? So you see it as much as I do! Her realm does not overlap with our dear king’s. I suspect, as a friend, she is disguising a letter from Persephone. I mean, I cannot know for certain, but it seems likely to me.”

“So?” Thanatos asked.

“I will deliver the message and will ‘share’ with the unseen one some of the conversations I’ve had with my dear sister. Specifically, how Apollo and Ares have visited her.”

“Certainly she does not take a lover this quickly?” Hypnos asked.

“She does not.” Hermes smile faded and his eyes cast down a little, choking back the emotion. “She is conflicted, I sense, but has not shared her heart with me. I would not expect her to, though I could wish. No, they have come to visit her and she has turned them away with the same ferocity as she did the first time. But Hades need not know that. And, if I am honest, if he trusted her, my half-truths would be meaningless.”

“You are cruel.” Thanatos said. “I love it.” Hypnos turned to stare at his twin, at the atypical comment for the god of gentle death, but Thanatos was at the end of his rope with Hades. Formerly, the two had a peaceful, if not very deep relationship. The god of death brought in souls, Hades was content. But now, since Persephone came and went, Hades has been harsher than usual, complaining about all sorts of ridiculous things. _“Can’t important people stop dying for a little? I am so sick of having to handle these arrogant mortal leaders, Thanatos.” When Thanatos rested his wings for a few minutes, Hades had bellowed, “Why do you stand there, boy? Do you need instructions on what to do?”_ It was a little much for even gentle Thanatos.

Hermes waved good bye to his friends and walked into the palace, resuming his light pace.

Hades saw the little psychopomp frequently enough; Hermes was a good shepherd for the departed. He was a good patron for travelers and merchants, if not also thieves. There were few areas in which he did not excel. Zeus loved him; so did his siblings. Even Hades had been charmed and, more importantly, impressed by his skills, enough to offer him a place next to Thanatos. There were few, in fact, that disliked Hermes.

Hades hated him in this moment. He hated the way in which Hermes’s talents were so richly rewarded with praise, even those duties which brought him into the underworld. Normally such thoughts would not cross his mind, for he in fact cared very little for what others thought – except Persephone.

As if to think it were to bring it to existence, he heard the boyish voice and flippant tones of his young nephew in the hallway outside his throne room. Groaning to himself, Hades wondered what he would have to endure this time. More bad news from his brother, gleefully delivered by the messenger boy?

The iron doors opened and the boy flittered in, his winged sandals carrying him along easily in long skip-strides. Hades wanted to smack the knowing smile off of his nephew’s face. Was he pursuing his beautiful wife? Chasing her through the fields of Enna whilst he languished down here in the grim darkness of the underworld? The thoughts, irrational as they were, could not be helped in this moment. Hades remained reserved in his countenance; it was important to not give an inch to perceptive Hermes who would see and dig in.

He bowed and even that seemed disrespectful to Hades. Producing a rolled parchment, Hermes handed it over to Hades. “A letter from my dear sister, _Artemis_ , sealed just for you.”

He arched a black brow, but took the extended scroll wordlessly and waited for Hermes to leave, but the young messenger god merely stood there, looking uncomfortable, as if he had something more he wished to say. “Well, boy? Out with it!”

If Hermes had thought twice of his intentions (he hadn’t), the harsh and condescending tone from Hades only sealed his resolve. “Well, my lord, it’s just…you know I’ve been a dear friend to Demeter and Kore for years.” He stopped for a moment, but did not meet Hades’ eyes. He had to be convincing.

“And?” the elder god asked, exasperated.

“I happened to see both Apollo and Ares visiting with her a few days ago,” he said quietly.

“That’s it?” Hades asked, his tone unimpressed. Inside he was seething, but the logical part of his mind was screaming at him to rein in his emotions. Remember, he told himself, Hermes was her suitor as well and he is known for his lies and trickery.

Hermes was impressed by the calm Hades displayed and debated how much further, if at all, he should go. Deciding that less was more, Hermes nodded and said, “Yes, my lord.”

“Then you may go.”

Hermes turned swiftly, his winged sandals carrying him as fast as they could as he desperately held in his laughter. Part of him pitied Hades, but the larger part of him despised the fact that when these six months were up, Persephone would be sleeping in the bed of the king of the underworld. For now, all he could do was continue his plan and hope for a place next to Persephone during her six months above ground.

When the door had closed, Hades stood up quickly and paced, grateful for the absence of any attendants in his throne room. It would not do for others to see the young god getting under his skin so. Part of him could not believe his words, or rather, could not believe the intention Hermes wished to convey. Part of him accepted that his unwilling bride would find comfort in the arms of another. He could easily find out – ask Zeus for intel, Hecate to use her magic, even see if the Fates could be persuaded to assist him. He would do none of that – showing such weakness was below him and could potentially destroy any trust that Persephone may have for him. No, he needed to keep his cool and figure out a way to teach the messenger god a lesson whilst still retaining him for his soul shepherding.


	3. The Journey of Self-Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades gets an unexpected letter and enjoys some alone time.
> 
> Persephone lets herself experience self-love for the first time.
> 
> Hermes stops by (of course.)
> 
> ***Note, this chapter describes masturbation in depth.

Hades stared at the iron door for several minutes after he left.

The messenger boy knew how to get under his skin, but it hadn’t always been this way. For years, Hermes had loyally served him much in the same way he served Zeus; in fact, the messenger had mentioned once that he saw Hades and Zeus as two sides of the same coin, cut from the same fabric, of similar look, both natural leaders with a tendency towards harshness. That was where the similarities ceased, for Hades was more patient and fairer than his younger brother, but then again, that might have been to what Hermes was alluding. He had, after all, said how much he loved serving two kings in such different capacities, for it allowed him to essentially be two different gods. Hades wondered how different Hermes truly was from what he’d observed. Persephone had mentioned him as one of her many suitors…

_“Have you been courted before, my lady?” Hades asked. For reasons unknown, Aphrodite had revealed Kore’s existence to him several months back. And while he had made several trips to Enna to spy on the young lady, he had never encountered her with any other gods except Hermes. The look in the young god’s eyes when he interacted with the spring goddess was enough for Hades to realize that there was some affection there, if only one-sided. He was ashamed of how much it burned in his chest._

_He observed her reactions: her face briefly tensed before the mask of indifference descended; her chin tilted up defiantly; her hands clasped in front of her. She was quiet, but certainly not shy. “Why do you care now for what my heart might desire?”_

_He kept his smile to himself. A question answered with a question. A question asked to a king with no respect. He loved it. “I care to learn more about my future queen.” They were standing in front of a fire in his antechamber. It provided warmth within the cold walls of the stone palace, its light casting a warm honey glow to her brown eyes._

_She tilted her head forward, looking up to meet his gaze, the smallest of smirks gracing the corner of her mouth. He was melting inside; gods, was he so deprived that the slightest bit of interaction with a goddess sent him reeling? Or was it just she? “You know, the mortals, for all of their short lives, have many opportunities to engage in whatever romantic escapades they will. The only constraints they have are the many rules they bind themselves with.” She paused, waiting for something. He wasn’t sure what reaction she wanted. She continued, “Gods have few rules and even fewer choices. There are so few of us and immortality is…well forever, that when one of us does come along…” she trailed off, letting him infer what he will._

_He nodded once and smiled, “I see, so my lady has been pursued.” He paused and thought carefully on his next question. “Hermes?”_

_She didn’t mean to flinch, but she did. Quickly recovering, she said, “Among others, but his was an offer of rescue. When the others came, some were persistent.”_

_“Rescue, hmmm?” Was that how the young messenger god was playing it to her?_

_She sighed and turned her face to stare into the fire, saying, “You would not understand. He is my brother.” Hades was mesmerized by her long waves of brown hair appearing as dark amber under the light of the flickering fire._

_Hades barked a laugh and said, “My lady, we are all kin here. Let’s not pretend to apply mortal constraints upon us. We are too few to play by those rules.”_

_“Indeed,” she said, distantly, almost carelessly. Regaining her concentration, she turned her gaze back to his and any residual laughter he may have felt died in his throat. “Hermes has been there for me since I was a baby.” The strong lord of the dead felt himself reducing with each sentence she uttered. “He taught me to read and write. I took my first steps with him. He showed me how to develop my powers. And he carried me on his shoulders when I was a child to let me pick fruit on the trees – the fruit I had grown! Truly, is that not the definition of a brother?”_

_He did not bother to ask her about her other suitors, not after that scolding. He could guess anyhow. Directing the conversation away from affairs of the heart and then concluding it awkwardly, he gave her leave to return to her chambers. Hades would have to work hard to impress the young goddess, but part of him wondered if he had made a mistake._

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he looked down at his hand, almost forgetting the strange scroll in it. What reason could Artemis have to send him a letter? Breaking the large clay bulla, he opened the scroll to find another, smaller one inside, also enclosed with a bulla, this time without any identifying seal impressed in the clay. The writing was hasty, urgent; he had seen this style in Hermes’s writings before and briefly wondered if what he read were a trick:

_I believe you._

_\-- Persephone_

He stared at the scroll for a long time and then nodded his head to no one, himself he supposed. He was trying to decide what to infer from that. Was it _I believe you and am willing to try?_ Or _I believe you but it is not worth it?_ Why send a letter if she didn’t care? He knew she was bound to him forever, but he still needed to know that she would be happy.

Hades was getting ahead of himself and he knew it. But the stakes were too high for this to fail – half of an eternity is still an eternity and to spend it with one you despise was a pain worthy of Tartarus. He need only look at Zeus and Hera for that. She ate the seeds and she sent him a letter two weeks into their separation. Objectively, these were optimistic signs, but too often the great lord of the underworld guided his logic by the safety of pessimism.

Having experienced his share of tears, Hades was not one to cry. It did not mean he was not sad, but that he chose to keep the experience to himself. Clutching the parchment, he left the throne room as he had been preparing to do before the boy had barged in. Having just met with the Judges, now was his time to tour Tartarus and later he would check in with Thanatos.

None of those activities sounded particularly appealing to Hades at this moment. He was a confused ruin, but burgeoning hope began to seep into his essence, swirling around and creating a certain tension he hadn’t felt in a while.

Instead he wandered back to his rooms. He cast the cold fireplace in his antechamber a wistful look and tossed the parchment on a small bronze table nearby before continuing on to his bedchamber. Sighing, Hades stared at the large bronze frame with gold and silver details piled with sheepskin. It was large enough for four people, but just big enough for him…and one other. The bed would be cold, but he didn’t care, that was the underworld and he had gotten used to it long ago. It would have been nice to be able to share that bed with another, though. Mechanically he unfastened his robes, letting the layers drop to the floor until he was naked.

Taking a moment, he dared to let his mind wander. Hades had often fantasized about Persephone in the months leading to her abduction, coming up with different scenarios that all led to the same end. Since the violence of abducting her, he hadn’t indulged, the weight of his actions erasing his ability to gain pleasure with her, even in fantasy. Her letter, her sparse words was like a balm slowly soothing his hot and inflamed guilt.

Hades lightly rubbed his chest, moving his hand slowly, inching further down with each caress. He imagined Persephone’s smaller, softer hands touching him, pushing him back onto the bed; he let himself fall into the bed in response. Pinning him on his back, Persephone leaned over him, a knee on each side of his muscular torso, her thin robes brushing against his skin, causing him to shudder. He could see how her breasts, large and heavy, hung down in front of him, nearly spilling out. Her large brown eyes searched his for an emotion; he showed her his love in his eyes and between his hips, thrusting up gently against her, letting her feel his arousal on her belly.

She pulled herself forward suddenly, capturing his lips in a sweetly innocent kiss despite the lust in her russet eyes. Her soft lips teased his, drew his tongue out, and she pulled her lips back to slide her tongue across his, briefly teasing him before pressing her lips back against his. She was sweet, she was seduction, she was everything he ever wanted.

Drawing his massive hands up her arms, he unclasped her robes, releasing her breasts. Bracing an arm across her back and one just under her ass, he broke the kiss and slid her up his body until his face was pressed between her breasts, letting their softness comfort his soul and harden his cock. He didn’t wait long to take a peaked nipple into his mouth, alternating between sucking and nibbling it gently. She moaned, deeply and loudly, throwing her head back. “Aidoneus!” she cried out when he slid the hand across her back up to cup her breast and then thumb and lightly pinch her other nipple. Smiling, he switched breasts, going back and forth, as if compelled to give equal attention to both. Persephone rewarded him by plunging her fingers into his thick, black wavy hair and lightly dragging her nails down his scalp and neck, causing him to shiver.

Not breaking from his fantasy, Hades grasped his now rigid erection and began stroking himself, slowly at first. He needed her soon, needed to feel the warmth of her core tightly embracing his cock. He pulled away and looked up, meeting her gaze. Persephone was breathing heavier as her own arousal grew. She sat up and maneuvered a little, pulling up and off her robes and casting them to the floor below. Sitting back on her heels, he took a moment to watch her, to take in every bit of her and burn it into his memory. Her wavy hair was wild, her large breasts heaving, her ample hips and ass thrusting lightly on his pelvis, just in front of his rigid erection.

She leaned forward and grabbed his hand, leading it to her mound and the further down and up, to her nub. “Like this,” she whispered huskily and stroked his large fingers against it. Lightly he began to move his index and middle fingers against her, reveling in the pleasure that crossed her face as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. Soon she was rolling her hips over his hand and moaning, “Harder, Aidoneus!” He was at her command. Persephone opened her eyes and bit her bottom lip, stifling another moan. Feeling that she was close, he sped up his ministrations and was rewarded with her gasping out a strangled cry as she thrust one final time and then stilled to ride out her orgasm.

Sighing contentedly, the spring goddess slid further back against his throbbing erection and teased her ass over it briefly before lifting her hips up. Hades, enthralled, held his cock steady as she lowered herself down on him slowly, both moaning. Never stopping from his fantasy, Hades sped up his stroking, feeling the pressure building. He would not last much longer.

Several strokes later, he came hard, spewing his seed across his abdomen and chest. He threw his head back, letting the release wash over him, pretending that he had come inside his bride and that they were now embracing post-lovemaking. He felt relieved; he felt pathetic; he let himself be carried away to a deep, dark, and dreamless sleep.

**************

Her eyes blinked open. Perhaps it was the sirocco that had descended upon them hours earlier, the remnants of some argument between Zeus and Hera, very likely. The hot and humid wind had whipped up earlier in the day, sending the nymphs back to their woodland and river homes and Demeter and Persephone back into their humble house. Her couch dragged back into her room, she attempted to sleep that night despite the oppressiveness of the air. Succeeding after many hours, she found herself staring into the blackness of the restless night through her open window after what felt like a criminally short sleep.

The goddess of spring felt her heartbeat pounding in her chest. No, this was not from the wind, this was something else. Her clothes abandoned earlier, Persephone ran a hand down her sweat-sticky chest, letting her finger tips skim her hardened nipples causing her to sigh softly. Embarrassed to ask the far more sensuous nymphs and afraid of her mother’s reaction, Persephone had ignored this part of herself for years. However, tonight it was inescapable and she wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing anymore.

She had a vague idea of what happened based on her observations of mortals and nymphs. Once, when she was a young child, she had caught her brother Hermes making love with a mortal woman, though she kept that secret to herself. Dragging her hands lower, she let her fingers skim the soft curve of her belly and the slightly fleshy mound below it. Persephone bit her lip and pushed her hand forward, letting her fingers skim her southern lips. She let the tension building in her abdomen lead her to where she needed release.

Once the goddess found her pearl, she instinctively kept rubbing it, guiding herself to an end she couldn’t anticipate. Onward she marched, images popping in her head – unexpected thoughts of Persephone sharing this moment with another, with Hades, both alarmed and aroused her. Too late to stop, she came hard, choking back her moans and sighs. Sitting up, Persephone leaned back on one hand whilst the other rubbed over her body, taking time to explore her peaked nipples. She had never experienced such a feeling before and the realization left her both happy and embarrassed, but mostly happy. It was her little secret she would keep to herself and explore as often as she could.

**************

By morning the wind and the humidity were gone. Persephone smiled to herself and dressed, readying herself for another day in spring. In the kitchen she found a plate of barley bread, olives, and figs and a little decanter of wine water. Damn Hades for introducing her to the joys of pure wine!

After eating breakfast, she wandered outside, curious as to where her mother was. It was unusual for the harvest goddess not to take morning meal with her, even on the days when they fought. This morning, however, Demeter was nowhere to be seen. Relieved a little, Persephone began her day, letting her mind wander to the night before, to her unexpected fantasies. She wondered if it were possible to love someone in only a week or if this was just the lust her mother had so often derided in their kin.

A fluttering behind her pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned around and smiled warmly, “Hermes, what brings you here? I wasn’t expecting you for a couple more days.”

He smiled brightly at her, barely able to contain his joy. “Can’t a god visit his favorite goddess?” He embraced her, hugging her tightly. “Anyhow, I came to see you, Kore. The last time we spoke you weren’t so happy and I was worried to leave you.”

Persephone sighed and said, “It’s Persephone, Hermes, please. And, yes, I am a little better. At least I’m not crying all of the time!”

Hermes felt ill having to say her underworld name. _Bringer of Destruction._ “I knew it! A little time above ground in the sunshine would cure it.”

She smiled sadly and shook her head, saying, “It’s not that simple, Hermes. I wish it were.”

He tried hard not to overanalyze her words. “D-did you want to talk about it? Where’s Demeter, by the way?”

The goddess of spring shrugged and turned back to the field in front of her, restoring the flowers destroyed by the previous night’s wind. “I…I don’t know.” She was silent for a long time, but she knew he was still there, the wings on his sandals flapping impatiently from time to time. “It’s just, no matter what, I’ll be unhappy part of the year, right? If I come to love my husband, I will miss him for six months when I am up here. If I hate him, I will miss this world for six months regretting everything.”

Trying her name out on his tongue, he said, “Persephone…you may find you like both. I don’t know…you know how I told you I feel like two gods because of my dual roles with Zeus and Hades? Perhaps you can cultivate that identity? Learn to appreciate both?” He couldn’t believe his words, but they had to be spoken; she had eaten the seeds, six months were guaranteed to the jailer of the titans. He was setting up his bargain for the other six months.

Smiling weakly, Persephone nodded. Before she could reply, a nymph, breathless from running came up to Persephone and tried to speak, “They…they’re fighting.”

The goddess furrowed her brow in confusion and looked over at Hermes who shrugged before she turned back to the exhausted nymph. “Who is?”

Before she could respond, the sounds of loud arguing echoed over the fields unnaturally. The plants began to grow haphazardly and violently and the sound of thunder emanated from all over.


	4. From Soil to Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone tries to reason with her mother. She is also invited to a very special place for a very special reason.
> 
> I welcome all feedback!

The energy was overwhelming. The soil beneath Persephone’s feet shuddered as it propelled plant life into an accelerated state of being. Flowers matured, cast off their seeds, and died, only for the seeds to germinate and repeat. Electrical energy made the air feel heavy and thunder continuously rolled, seemingly from all directions. Their voices carried further than any mortal or nymph could shout, signs that they were beginning to shed their physical form and adopt their godly aspect during this altercation.

The nymph collapsed in Persephone’s arms, burying her head in her shoulder, fear and exhaustion gripping the young woman’s body. The goddess of spring looked out over the field and when she saw nothing turned her head back to Hermes. He was staring into the field, waiting for something to happen. “Hermes, why are they fighting?”

The godly arguing became louder and Hermes had to shout to be heard over it, “I don’t know.” There was nothing they could do but let Demeter and Zeus fight it out. The violence was inescapable.

The nymph clutched Persephone harder and cried fresh tears into her shoulder. Drawing back, the goddess of spring said, “Don’t cry, you’re safe with me.” Hermes’s heart melted watching her comfort the scared nymph barely as old as young Persephone.

Then, as quickly as the violence began it ceased. The silence was overwhelming and Persephone felt the tension in her chest. The nymph lifted her face and looked around. Observing that all was safe, she started to run off, but swift Hermes gently grabbed her by the arm and said, “Hold on a moment, young one. Do you know why they quarrel?”

“Nay, only that Zeus came here earlier to see my lady Persephone here and, finding she asleep and Demeter on premises, began to converse in private. Quickly it became heated and they flew off into the fields.”

“So you chased them down? Why?” Persephone asked, curious. Nymphs, though immortal, were averse to fighting in the manner of gods. They much preferred to exist in harmony with those around them, much as the trees, flowers, and rivers work together.

“Zeus came to see you, my lady. I feared he came to take you away! Don’t leave us! I don’t want to sleep again! I don’t want to sleep again!” she shrugged Hermes’ light grip on her arm easily and turned, running off into the woods behind Demeter’s house.

Persephone and Hermes stared at each other for several seconds before Hermes said, “Demeter told me not to bother coming anymore. I better leave before she gets back.” His words were rushed and uncomfortable as he stepped forward and embraced Persephone. He never grew tired of that and it crushed his heart to know that his weekly visits would either have to cease or be done secretively.

Stepping back, he turned to fly off, but her voice, stronger than she intended called out, “Wait a minute, brother.”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, apprehensive for the question he knew to come. “Y-yes?”

“What did she mean by ‘sleep again?’” Persephone asked, her hands on her hips.

Hermes turned around to face her, all playfulness gone from his form. Taking a moment, he cast his eyes away and considered his phrasing. He knew the answer would hurt her, make her angry. Would she hate her husband or her mother? While he hoped for the former, lately Hermes found that the gap between hope and reality was too far apart for him to bridge with his wit and words. “When Hades took you to the Underworld, your mother was so devastated that she ceased growing the harvest…”

“Yes, I know.”

“…and all other plant life. Dryads, hamadryads…all of them fell asleep as if dead.” He paused to look at her from the side of his eyes, anxious for her reaction. “And the naiads began to act strangely as the streams grew colder, moving but not really present.” He shuffled his feet and the winged sandals flapped a little. “Demeter forbid the nymphs – and me – from speaking of it to you.”

“How does Gaia allow such a misuse of power on the soil? Is it not her domain?” Persephone asked incredulously.

Hermes tiredly shook his head, “Who knows Gaia’s motives? And what does the soil care for who walks upon it? What does the soil care for what grows within it?”

Persephone was not convinced that Gaia would be so indifferent, but perhaps she was being naïve. She simply nodded her head and quietly said, “I understand. Thank you, Hermes. You may leave.”

He looked at her face, watching quiet tears slip down her face. He started to say something, “Persephone…” but cut himself off. What words of comfort could he offer her? What could he do to take her pain away? Failure loomed over him and the feeling became so powerful that he turned quickly and flew off.

She stood there, unsure of how much time passed, wavering between being the goddess of spring and the queen of the dead. Between bringing life or bringing destruction. Between passive and assertive. She was Persephone and it was time she acted like the name she insisted her mother use.

The plants around her regulated themselves. “Kore?” her mother called. Instinctively the young goddess shuddered at the name, at the blatant disrespect of her wishes. Demeter asked again, this time closer and more softly, “Kore?”

Reluctantly, Persephone turned around and faced her mother. She would have never guessed she had just been in an earth-shattering fight with Zeus. Her face was calm, her perfect black ringlets gathered on top of her head in a loose bun. “Yes, Demeter?” Persephone asked.

“What?” she asked softly in reply, her voice betraying her vulnerability. “You will not know me as simply mother anymore?”

Persephone tilted her head up defiantly and said, “I will call you as this until you can address me by the name I have chosen.”

Demeter looked around wearily and then sat on a bench under a tree, holding her head in her hands. “I’ve tried so hard to keep you safe, but the Fates have conspired against me. I should have known – they are the children of Zeus!”

“I am a child of Zeus,” Persephone observed quietly.

“So you are,” Demeter replied, rubbing her temples. “And you know that I do not hold you in the same esteem as his other rotten offspring.”

“And Hermes? Does he rot?” the young goddess asked, again her voice quiet and calm.

Demeter dropped her hands and looked up at her daughter, “No, I suppose not.” There was a long silence between them, heavy in the air despite the gentle breeze. “Zeus wants you to visit Olympus.”

“Is that why you two were fighting?” she asked, appalled that a simple request from Zeus would yield such dramatics, but simultaneously unsurprised at her mother’s behavior. Suddenly tired, she sat down on the bench next to Demeter but didn’t look at her.

Sensing her daughter’s disapproving tone, Demeter straightened up and said, “He wanted you to spend a week there every month. I told him that I would not part with you for such a long period of time, that after losing you to… _him_ ” she nodded down at the soil angrily, as if to indicate the Underworld, “I would not part with you for such a prolonged period of time whilst you were here in the mortal realm. I told him if he wanted you to visit Olympus so badly, you could do it on your abductor’s time.”

Persephone sighed and asked sadly, “And you didn’t think to ask me what I wished?” She waited for a response and when none came, she continued, “Did he say why he wanted me on Olympus?”

They were speaking, but not looking at each other. “He said as Queen of the Underworld it was appropriate and expected for you to develop relationships with the other gods, especially the Olympians. He wants you to get to know them, at least the ones you don’t already know.”

Persephone perked up, “I think that is a wise idea.”

Demeter snorted, “Of course you would think that. Anything to be away from your true home.” Persephone gave an involuntary sigh. “Anyhow, after some discussion, Zeus agreed to one day a month. You will spend the night and return in the morning. This is how it shall be every month. Hermes will come collect you in the morning.”

“And the plants – what will happen to them whilst I am on Olympus?” Persephone asked. The nymph’s words ran through her head over and over.

“They will remain as is. I will not kill the harvest, but I cannot be expected to make things grow when you are not here.”

The spring goddess frowned. “Mortal mothers are able to part with their daughters when the time comes. I am curious as to why you cannot accept that for me?” Even if she wasn’t sure that being the wife of Hades was what she wanted, having the opportunity to experience life outside of Demeter’s carefully constructed prison was all-consuming for her. She had tasted freedom and it was fresher than any spring rain, more beautiful than any flower, and lusher than any field.

Demeter turned her head to meet her daughter’s hard gaze. “We are not mortals, Kore. Our existence is dictated by our roles. You were never intended for the Underworld. Spring and harvest are meant to work together.”

Persephone sighed, too tired to fight for her name.

**************

She rose early the next morning after a short and troubled sleep, before sunrise. Her excitement for her first visit to Olympus was muted by the unnerving words of the nymph from yesterday. When she would come back to the mortal realm tomorrow, what would she find? Nymphs sleeping? She hoped not, but the thought nagged at the back of her mind and would likely haunt her until she returned.

Persephone entered the kitchen, but her mother was neither there nor outside cooking breakfast. Shrugging to herself, she began munching on a piece of plain barley bread, pocketing a couple of figs for later. If her mother wanted to sulk, Persephone was not about to stop her. Wandering outside, she took in a deep breath and exhaled, the scent of spring fully in the air. She had missed that scent in the Underworld – the smell of her power coursing through all living plant life.

“Nothing is more relaxing than admiring one’s own successes. This spring is truly remarkable.” She jumped at his compliment, unaware that he had landed behind her. Turning around, she found him leaning against the side of Demeter’s house, arms folded over his chest, a friendly smirk dominating his face. His winged petasos dangled by its chin strap around one of his arms.

“Hermes!” He opened his arms and she ran to give him a hug. “I am so excited to visit Olympus! When can we go?”

“How about now?” he asked, putting the petasos on his head and tightening the chin strap before wrapping his arms around her. He made sure she locked her hands together behind his neck and then they were off, up into the sky, the clouds breaking for them as he sped them quickly through the air. There was no other god who could beat him for speed, except the three kings, all who could travel instantly to a location if they desired, although such acts were often tiring.

Persephone’s wide-eyed amazement made Hermes smile, reminding him of his reaction the first time he flew through the air, centuries ago. He held her closer and she looked at him, sharing her smile with him. He would take her on flights every day if she would share such a smile with him or perhaps more. Instantly Hermes struck the thought from his head; it wouldn’t do to dream too much, not when his gut was telling him that he wouldn’t be able to convince her to be his beloved above ground. Oh, he had no intentions of stopping his seduction, but he was treating his heart delicately. He’d broken enough hearts himself to know it wasn’t something he wished to experience.

They landed just outside the gates of Olympus where Hermes bowed to the guardian and said, “My friend, Eunomia, this is Persephone, goddess of spring.” Turning back, he said, “This is Eunomia, one of the Horae. She, along with her sisters Eirene and Dike, take turns guarding the gates.”

Eunomia turned her gaze to Persephone and that was when the young goddess realized her eyes were solid white, as if light were emitting from them. Her pale olive skin had a radiance about it that contrasted with her thick black hair. She was very tall, nearly as tall as Hades, and thin. She was ethereal and mysterious and everything Persephone was not. She was not jealous, only amazed at the creature who stood before her, and quite surprised when the woman stepped forward and grasped her hands, bowing to her. “The Queen of the Underworld has arrived. Please, enter. You are welcome here! Zeus awaits you.”

Hermes grasped her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and said, “I will take you to him, Persephone.” He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. Though she smiled and felt the energy and excitement of Olympus, something felt odd to her about the way he interacted with her this morning. Perhaps he had always been this way, but she was now only noticing what that truly meant.

Making their way to Zeus’s grand palace, white stone that blended in with the clouds that surrounded them, she looked up to take in every piece of architecture: large balconies atop which sat small potted trees and shrubs; tall windows lined in gold; dramatic arches. Though she could see no one in the windows, she felt as if the eyes of its inhabitants watched her every move.

The palace door swung open as they approached and she saw the form of Zeus waiting there. Odd, he was her father, and he held his arms outstretched as if to embrace a favored daughter, and yet she had only met him several weeks ago. Happy for the invitation to his abode and with no reason not to, she walked into his embrace. He was surely taller and more powerful than Hermes, yet his embrace was gentler which Persephone found surprising. Looking her over, he asked seriously, “You made the trip well? Hermes did not drop you at any point?” He pointedly looked at his son who looked away.

Laughing, Persephone stood back and said, “It has been a wonderful morning. I am so excited to meet everyone.” Then, deciding to test the word, she continued, “Thank you, father, for having me here.”

Smiling and nodding, he said, “Very well, my daughter, let us wander the halls a bit and converse. Hermes, you are free.” Zeus wanted her to feel settled a little first before asking her what he had planned from the beginning. He needed to learn more about her, gauge her reactions, before bringing up the topic. To listen to Demeter, her week in the Underworld might as well have been Tartarus, but Zeus knew his sister as well as his brother. He was very certain Demeter didn’t know what Persephone felt about the Underworld. He was also very certain he knew how Hades would have treated her in his abode. He hoped that Persephone had at least been receptive to the idea of Hades as a husband, for her happiness, but mostly for Hades’s. Long had he lived, far longer than Zeus, and long had he waited for the stirrings of love to move him. Zeus, perhaps desirous to see _one_ of the gods happily married, would do his part to facilitate this.


	5. Introductions and Intimations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone meets with Zeus and later is introduced to the other Olympians at a party.

Zeus walked with Persephone through his great halls, learning about her life growing up in the mortal realm. It wasn’t overly exciting, he had to be honest, but it was what was expected of him and besides, he felt he owed it to his brother to help make things right. Zeus had greatly underestimated Demeter. Remembering how quickly the harvest died off, how Hermes brought in word of the sick and elderly passing at faster rates in a rapidly freezing world, day after day, it didn’t take Zeus long to realize that he’d have to return Persephone to Demeter. He knew that offering Hades a replacement bride would not satisfy his brother; Hades was cut from a different cloth than his brothers. His desires were few and those he did have were strange to Zeus, but he was passionate on those. 

Persephone was one of them. She did have a sparkle in her eyes when she spoke on certain topics, otherwise she was patient and kind in her manners. Zeus was struck with the realization that his children, the ones he raised on Olympus, were never this well behaved and he silently cursed Demeter for showing him to be the bad parent he secretly suspected he was.

Stopping suddenly in the hallway, Zeus turned to Persephone and asked, “Would you like to meet the other Olympians?”

Persephone’s eyes lit up and she said, “Yes – oh – I have already met a few! Ares and Apollo. And of course, Artemis and Hermes are my friends!”

Zeus grimaced and said, “Yes…my sons...and Artemis. There are others for you to meet as well. Anyhow, we will feast shortly. In the meantime, let us step out on my balcony here and share a bit of nectar. I have been a terrible host to my youngest daughter.”

Shortly, Persephone found herself standing on the largest balcony in the palace, the cool mist of clouds depositing dew on her skin reminding her of how she woke up in the mornings when she slept outside. A young goddess interrupted them, handing them two cups of nectar before silently nodding her head and turning to leave. 

“Hebe, hold a moment. This is Persephone, your younger sister.” Silently Hebe turned and, casting a tiny smile, nodded her head then turned back to leave. Zeus shrugged and said, “She’s very quiet, as you can tell.” Persephone was awed that her older sister looked so much younger than she. Zeus, picking up on her silent reaction, said, “Ah, yes, she looks so young. I suppose you haven’t been exposed to enough immortals to understand how different we are from each other. We’re not like mortals – we do not race to maturity at a determined age, but rather take our own course there. For some of us, we are born and mature in a day, such as your friends Artemis and Hermes. Others, such as Hebe, take longer.”

Persephone felt a pang of sadness, imagining a life stuck as a child forever. “D-does she…want…that? To be a child?”

Zeus looked startled, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I suppose so. I never thought about it and never thought to ask her. Certainly she’s never seemed to mind and really it’s up to her. Hebe chooses to live here as my cupbearer – a simple role that is symbolic more than anything else.” He chuckled, his honey-amber eyes twinkling, and continued, “I mean, who could poison the immortal king of the gods?”

Persephone stifled a smirk. She had heard much of Zeus’s ego from Hermes and it was humorous to see how it came out in friendly conversation inadvertently. “Indeed!” she replied.

“Anyhow, my daughter, we have been talking and you still have not sampled the nectar. Please, drink up…but first we must have a toast!” As if he were convincing himself, he said, “Yes, yes, we will have many later, but I insist on one now.” Persephone was alarmed at how disarming and amusing he was. Was this the terrible king of the gods who raped women? Inflicted cruel punishment upon those who defied him? Holding up the cup, he said, “To Persephone, may you find the light of happiness wherever you are.” Even in the gloom of the Underworld, was the unspoken completion of that thought.

They both took a long sip of nectar. For Persephone, it was invigorating as she had never tasted such a liquid before. The ichor in her body burned from it nearly immediately. Zeus observed her, waiting for the right moment to bring up the topic. Hades.

“So…” Zeus said, trailing off. 

Persephone raised an eyebrow and watched him carefully consider his words. She all but knew the direction the conversation was going and, despite her surprising indulgence the other night, or perhaps because of it, she found herself steeling her guts. 

“How did Hades treat you?” he asked cautiously.

Persephone swirled the last few drops of nectar in her cup and thought to herself. What did she think? It was so much easier having this conversation with her mother where she could use the experience to push back on her overbearing ways. It was less easy in the presence of a father she never knew in a domain she never visited before. What was the relationship between Hades and Zeus? She assumed neutral, at least, if not better. As Hermes had pointed out to her long ago, somewhat bitterly, it was easier for Zeus to love his brothers than his many, many children. And she was a daughter. Mortal men seldom cared for the opinions and wishes of mortal women. Why then should the great king of the gods care for the opinion of a lowly young soil-dwelling goddess? 

Zeus felt her hesitance as something deeper, a fear, and the twinkle in his eye died as he tried to reassure her. “I will not share your words with anyone else. I can’t change what happened, but I can try to assist if needed.”

“With what?” she blurted out and then looked away, surprising herself and Zeus alike. “I-I-I’m sorry, I did not mean to insult. I meant, I’ve already eaten the seeds of the underworld – the timeline is set, half above, half below.” Persephone forced herself to meet his gaze, fearful for what she might see there.

Questioning Zeus was a sure path to his terrible anger, but her fear was more troubling to him. Normally he would not care if another feared him, but in this he could not tolerate it, would not tolerate letting Demeter win – again. The harvest goddess had already won so much by clawing back her daughter from the Underworld. He tried again to elicit some comment from her. “You do not need to apologize to me, my daughter. I…know that I…allowed your world to be upended. I just want to know if the Underworld – and Hades – are as terrible to you as your mother said.”

Her face was unreadable save for the sudden tiredness around her eyes. She smiled weakly and sighed, saying, “It’s too soon to know how it’ll be. I was only down there a week. I barely know Hades, but our interactions, when we had them, were civil at worst.” 

Zeus thought it was an odd way to phrase things, but used it to lead in to his next question. “So you simply do not know him well enough yet?”

“That is a fair statement,” she admitted, turning her head back out to the balcony. The morning sun had burnt off the clouds and she was bathed in the sudden warmth of Helios (with whom she was still annoyed).

“Six months is a long time to wait. I doubt your mother would let you even write him letters.” Persephone twisted her lips and then took in the remaining drops of nectar. Zeus had no idea of the hurdles she ran just to get her secret letter to Hades. She dared not think on having to do this regularly or where she would hide his letters should he write to her. 

Zeus continued, “Are you looking forward to knowing him more?”

Images flashed through Persephone’s mind of the other night, imagining him touching her where she touched herself. She felt her face flush. “Y-yes, I think I am.”

Zeus grasped her shoulder and smiled, saying, “Care you to meet the other Olympians now?”

Returning his smile, Persephone nodded her head and eagerly followed him back inside.

**************

They entered a great banquet hall strewn with couches and small tables, an immortal occupying each one. Nymphs were busy attending each, bringing food and wine as required while others took up singing and dancing for entertainment. As if her presence commanded attention, their eyes were drawn to her. She recognized Ares and Apollo sitting near each other on one side. Of course she recognized her friends Artemis and Hermes, who sat huddled together on the other side of the room. The rest were strangers to her and she felt their gazes burn into her body as a predator eyeing its prey. 

Artemis sat up and waved cheerfully to Persephone, who returned the gesture. They had known each other for years, first meeting one time when Persephone had snuck out at night to swim in a pool when she was a young teenager. They tried to meet up once every few weeks or so as time would allow and although it was not a secret from Demeter, who approved of her friendship with the virgin goddess of the hunt, it was difficult coordinating their schedules since they operated at different times of the day. Plants grew steadily, but did best under the sunlight. Artemis, still tied to her moon goddess aspects, primarily hunted at night. 

Persephone was glad that Artemis seemed in a good mood today for she was less than pleased when asked to disguise a letter to Hades. She had immediately declined, saying it was against her duties, that she would not be a protectress were she to facilitate communication between an abductor and his victim. After much conversation, the spring goddess was able to prevail and, begrudgingly, the goddess of the hunt had carried off the letter, wrapping it in parchment and sealing it with her insignia. 

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she turned back to Zeus who was already engaged in conversation with another goddess, tall like Zeus, but with gray eyes, unlike any she had seen before. Although she wore a peplos like the other goddesses, she also wore a helmet. Was she a war goddess? What of Ares? Instinctively her eyes traveled to the couches where Ares and Apollo sat and she found that they were engaged in some conversation, a miserable look upon both of their faces.

Turning back to Artemis, Persephone wandered over there, doing her best to ignore the curious gazes of the others. The prospect of introducing herself to them seemed daunting and she was secretly hoping that one of her friends would bring her around. Persephone found that her discomfort was largely around the gods and she acknowledged somewhat sadly that the stories her mother fed her from childhood had a deeper impact on her than she would have cared. Specifically, her suitors had caused her great distress, but now faced with gods she knew not, that same fear crept over her. Were they truly as aggressive as she had thought at the time or was it her own sheltered perception of that? And how easily Zeus, the greatest offender of all, had made her feel comfortable disturbed her. She chided herself for not knowing and questioned her every reaction.

A strong and calloused hand grasped hers and squeezed. Persephone jolted a little and looked down at the hand before snapping her eyes back up at its owner, Artemis. Behind her, Hermes casually leaned back observing the entire interaction, his smirk ever-present.

“Where were you just then?” Artemis asked with a laugh.

“Oh, sorry, my sister. It’s been a long day,” Persephone said, hoping to leave it at that. She didn’t feel like delving into her inner turmoil at the moment.

Artemis nodded her head and leaned it, “The last several weeks have been long. I am sorry that I was not there when it happened – I would have shot him in the back with my biggest arrow, the brute!”

Persephone understood her friend’s reaction but she was not in a mind to indulge in such conversation. “I knew there would be so many here, but did not realize what it would be like. Would you introduce me to the others?”

“What, not me, Persephone?” Hermes asked with mock indignation and stood up, holding his cup of nectar in his hands. 

Nervously laughing, Persephone said, “But Hermes I have seen you just this morning and it has been so long since Artemis and I have caught up!” A lie in the manner that Hermes would utter, a half truth.

Concealing any emotion, he sipped again from his nectar and said, “Well, all right then. I have saved you a spot,” he said, motioning to the couch next to his.

“Oh as if she would want to sit next to you!” Artemis exclaimed as she rolled her eyes. While she and Hermes got on very well, she always had an innate mistrust of men. “Come, sister, I will introduce you as our dear father is yet occupied in serious conversation with Athena.”

Athena. That was who she was. Persephone remembered that Hermes had mentioned her when discussing some war that she was engaged with against Ares some years ago. 

Artemis linked her arm with Persephone’s and brought her around to Zeus’s entire family. Hestia was friendly, Poseidon was not. Artemis mentioned between introductions about some troubles he was having with a rogue mortal who had offended him by injuring one of his children. Aphrodite and another god – Hephaestus – broke from their romantic endeavors for the introduction. Hephaestus was very friendly and Aphrodite was civil. As they slowly moved on, Persephone turned her head to Artemis who answered the unasked question, “Aphrodite is angry with Ares, so she takes her husband back to her bed.” Persephone wondered at such behavior and felt a pain in her stomach – would Hades do such a thing were he to be angry with her? Take some other goddess or nymph to his bed? She didn’t think she would be able to do the same to him. 

Finally, they came around to Apollo and Ares, two of the most miserable looking gods in the pantheon were Persephone to exclude her mother. “Brothers, I trust you remember Persephone?” Artemis asked, a hard edge to her voice, her eyes boring into her brother’s disinterested face.

“Ah yes, of course. How could we forget such an unattainable beauty?” Apollo quipped. Ares cast his brother a side-eye but said nothing. 

Artemis folded her arms across her chest and leaned forward on one leg, never removing her eyes from her bother. “She will be a guest of Olympus once a month and I trust that she will be treated with the utmost respect.” Persephone observed this interaction as an outsider, the feeling of it strange to her.

Apollo cocked his head to the side and replied, “So long as the great lord of the Underworld does not appear, then I think she shall be safe.” Artemis huffed.

Persephone grimaced and found herself snapping, “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” 

Curiously, Apollo turned his head to Persephone and said, almost languidly, “Are you saying you asked to be carried off? If I would have known…let’s just say I wouldn’t have wasted time with sweet words and music.”

“Enough,” Ares interjected, and the deep rumble of his voice was enough to silence everyone around him. “I have no doubt you can take care of yourself, young goddess,” he said, nodding his head to her. He looked as if positioned to speak more but thought better of it and only nodded his head once again.

Artemis was locked in a staring contest with her brother, the two communicating as if by magical means. Persephone tugged on Artemis’s arm, who broke her gaze and said, “Let me introduce you to Athena. I don’t know where Hera is – oh, but you have already met her!” 

Persephone thought it likely Hera didn’t want to be bothered with yet another bastard child, especially the daughter of her husband’s affair with a formerly close sister. The knowledge of this still weighed heavily on Persephone, it all coming out when Hermes brought her before Zeus and Hera to determine her fate several weeks ago. If Hera didn’t want to see her, she understood. It was an uncomfortable situation for everyone.

The afternoon continued on, with much nectar and ambrosia as well as mortal meals and wine circulated around the room. Persephone noted that the wine tasted watered down and frowned to herself, annoyed that she had let Hades ruin what she formerly enjoyed. They reveled, and as the wine continued to flow, the conversations became louder, more scandalous. Aphrodite and Hephaestus seldom left each other, incurring the wrathful stare of Ares from time to time. Apollo leaned back on the couch and cast an arm over his head, his gazed fixed upon the ceiling.

“What’s wrong with him?” Hermes asked, turning to Artemis.

Artemis sighed and said, “Another one of his love affairs gone awry.”

Persephone leaned forward to listen more, although she got the feeling that it wasn’t exactly a secret. Artemis continued, “Well, it was a mortal, so I don’t know how he thought that was going to turn out. His name was…Hyacinthus if I remember correctly. He was supposedly a beautiful young man, a prince somewhere. I believe Apollo was truly in love this time – he’d even told me of his plans to make his lover immortal so they could always be together.”

“Oh, do you think that Zeus would have gone for it?” Hermes asked, more curious than he should have been.

Artemis shrugged, “I have no idea. Anyhow, they were throwing a discus and apparently it went in an unexpected direction and hit Hyacinthus in the head. Apollo told me he used every bit of his power, his knowledge of medicine, to save the young mortal’s life, but it didn’t work. Thanatos appeared as Apollo desperately tried to rekindle the ember of life. Apollo resents Thanatos right now and he apparently thinks Zephyrus had something to do with it too.”

“Why Zephyrus?” 

“Because Hyacinthus mentioned to my brother that the god of the west wind had also pursued him, but that he ultimately picked Apollo.”

Hermes nodded his head and then said, “Wait, did this just happen?”

Artemis leaned back and said, “No, it was a few years ago, but he’s been holding onto the sadness ever since. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

Hermes sat back dumbfounded. Persephone looked over at Apollo, beginning to understand a little of why he was so difficult to be around. 

**************

In the early evening, everyone parted. Persephone was used to mortals having such gatherings in the evening and then taking to bed afterwards and found it odd that the gods would have such parties during the day. Hermes offered to walk her to her room, but Zeus insisted he lead her there himself. 

As they walked down a corridor, the last light of the sun dipped down below the clouds and the only light was the wispy flames of oil lamps on the walls. In such light, Zeus’s steely face betrayed nothing, his brow furrowed as if deep in his own thoughts. The corridor was long, the other Olympians so far away that she began to fear where Zeus was leading her. Perhaps her mother was right about Zeus after all. 

And then he stopped walking abruptly in front of a set of double doors. He turned to her and said, “When you are here, these will be your chambers. Good night daughter. I may not see you before you return to the mortal world in the morning, but I will see you at least next month.” He did not embrace her, merely squeezed her shoulder with his hand. Then he was gone.

She looked around, almost fearful for her surroundings. Nervously, she clutched the handles of the doors and pushed them open. The oil lamps and candles as well as the fireplace provided sufficient light for the room. She gulped and stepped forward, remembering the conversation she had with Hades a few weeks ago in front of his fireplace. Closing the doors behind her, as if to prevent whatever ethereal fear trailed her, she made her way over to the fireplace, mesmerized by its glow and warmth. Olympus was much cooler than the mortal realm and the evening chill had begun to make her shiver.

Persephone decided that she had been a little too harsh with Hades when defending her brother. She at least felt that now as she began to see Hermes’s intentions through a different lens. When she returned to the Underworld, would Hades light a fire for her again and attempt to woo her as he clearly was that evening? How much did she want that? She looked over at the bed and bit her lip. Perhaps tonight she would indulge herself as she had a few nights ago.

Then she heard movement behind her and a voice called out softly, “Persephone?” Shivering, she realized she would know that voice anywhere.

Turning, she looked over at the other end of the chambers. Seated at a small table, a glass of – likely – wine in his hand, his long legs stretched out in front of him, was Hades. The candle on the table was snuffed out, probably to reduce the glare by the window so he could look out, but also to hide himself as he was inclined to do.

“H-Hades?” was all she could croak as her emotions swirled around.


	6. In the Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evening conversation.

“H-Hades?” was all she could croak as her emotions swirled around.

He stood up and walked across the room with slow, sure steps. In truth, Hades didn’t know what he was doing here and was buying time observing her reactions. His brother had traveled to the Underworld to personally request his appearance on Olympus, saying that Persephone wished to see him and to patiently wait in these chambers far flung from the rest of the Olympians. He had been worried at first, concerned that something bad had befallen her, but when Zeus returned later with a decanter of wine, he spoke of Persephone’s monthly visits to Olympus and the current introductions happening on the other side of the palace. Internally Hades was conflicted for he felt it more likely that Zeus had assumed Persephone would want to see him. He was too practical to assume that she would want anything to do with him at this time.

“You’re here?” she asked, almost incredulously.

Hades wanted to evaporate into the evening mist and leave everything behind. He just knew she had no idea he would be here and he was thankful for the calming effects of the wine. Gods, he never let anything perturb him, but this goddess standing before him always seemed to undo him without trying. He knew it was him, his deep passion for her that led him to overreact to everything she did, but he just didn’t know how to control it. Never before had any nymph or goddess elicited the same reaction he now felt. Remembering that a question had been asked, he responded, “Yes, Zeus requested my presence.”

Emboldened more than she expected, she reached out for his cup of wine and brought it to her lips, savoring the first sip, dry and strong and oh so desired. He watched her carefully, waiting for some sign, some indication she wanted him to stay. Persephone licked the residue off of her lips and swirled the last drops of wine in his cup. He watched her every movement, lapping up any attention she would give him. Gods, he was pathetic.

She stared up at him, a hand on her hip, the other holding the wine. He still wore his himation over his chiton – was he preparing to leave? Persephone figured he was waiting for her to say something. “You’ve forever ruined wine for me, you know?” she said firmly.

Hades observed the small smirk on her lips and, following her lead, bowed his head, “Many apologies, my lady. How did I manage to do that?”

“By letting me taste undiluted wine. I am now uncivilized.” 

He laughed and said, “If you are uncivilized than I must be an outright barbarian.” Careful, he thought to himself, she might agree with you.

She laughed, her eyes twinkling, and brought the cup to her lips, finishing the last sip and then licking her lips again. His dark eyes watched her movements and he involuntarily shivered. How he would love to run his tongue against her wine stained lips. Staring at them, he replied, almost distantly, “There is more at the table if you wish.”

“No, I think I’d like to stand by the fire a bit. It’s a bit chilly in the evenings here, is it not?” 

Snapping his eyes up to meet hers, Hades nodded, “Yes, although I think the Underworld is the coldest place, far colder than here.”

She turned to walk towards the fireplace, and called over her shoulder, “That I can attest to.” He stood next to her, giving her a respectable distance. He was pleased with the friendly conversation and didn’t want to do anything that would kill it like the last time. She warmed her hands in front of the flames, continuing, “Though you still wear your himation. Are you planning on running away?”

Feeling his nerves begin to relax a bit, he laughed and said, “No, my lady. Tartarus itself would have to suck me into its dark depths to remove me from your presence this evening. Or your command.”

She turned her head to smile at him, her wavy brown hair falling over her shoulder and her warm brown eyes glimmering in the low-light. It was a familiar scene, one Persephone was eager to recreate, but to what end she still was unsure. All she knew was that she wanted to see him as entranced with her as he was the other night.

They were quiet for a while and when she didn’t say anything, he assumed she might not want him to stay the evening. Should he bring up the letter? Why hadn’t she? Quieter, his voice starting out as a whisper before his voice cracked a little, he said, “It was presumptuous for Zeus to summon me here. If you wish for me to leave, merely say so.”

“I…will keep that in mind, Hades.” Persephone took a moment to examine him. He was so much taller than she, who was not short by goddess standards. He was broad and muscular, with thick black wavy hair and a short black beard. There was a small scar on his neck that Persephone was sure was an indication of the injuries he had endured in his role as jailer over the worst monsters the world had ever known. What other scars did he bear? She could imagine the misery he had witnessed and could wonder that she would ever be able to soothe away such memories. She was startled at how willing she let her mind wander to such intimate thoughts. It was too soon, Persephone told herself, to let herself go that far. 

He felt her eyes roam over his features, eliciting a welcomed rush of heat to his face. Hades wanted her to look at him, to see him as something more than a monster. He needed her approval and company to ease centuries of loneliness. He was little more than one of Hephaestus’s automatons now, mechanically fulfilling his duties, but in her could be reborn the god he once was before he descended to this station. He cleared his throat and asked, “Would you like more wine?” 

Wordlessly, Persephone handed him his cup and walked back to the small table by the window, pausing by a nightstand to grab a bronze oil lamp and place it on the table. Hades sat down across from her and poured them both more wine. She smiled and again, he waited for her to speak, realizing that it was easier to follow her lead in the conversation. While he was intelligent and clever when it suited him, romantic words were difficult for him. He cleared his throat and handed her wine to her quietly. 

She took it from him and put it to her lips before stopping to consider something. “You know, they went through rounds of toasts this afternoon. They drank to everything: good health, though I wonder on that one; happiness, which few seemed to have; satisfying love lives. What shall we drink to?”

While he would most definitely like to drink to having a satisfying love life, he decided not to scare her away. Holding up his cup, he said, “To happiness. May it find us always.” They clinked their cups together and drank. Persephone noticed that he offered up a nearly identical toast as Zeus had earlier; was happiness such a rare commodity for the immortals, or just the god sitting in front of her? Hades stared out of the window for a moment, laughed and said, “I can guess who toasted to the satisfying love life.”

Persephone sat back and smiled at him behind her wine. “Oh? You might be surprised.”

“Aphrodite, for sure.”

Setting the cup down, Persephone looked at the table, her smile widening, and then darted her eyes up at him. A slight blush crept up her neck, but it was hardly visible in the dim light. “Well, I am sure she was the inspiration, but actually it was Hephaestus who toasted that.”

Hades was taken aback. “Hephaestus?”

“Apparently Aphrodite is mad at Ares, so she now spends her time with Hephaestus,” she said, the words coming out stilted as she hovered somewhere between flirtatious and embarrassed.

Hades shook his head, “I do not understand those three. Well, perhaps I understand why Aphrodite does what she does, but Ares and Hephaestus are often more unhappy than not because of her. She uses sex – ”

“The way you use the dead?” Persephone interrupted him, finishing his sentence.

“I don’t use the dead for anything. They exist and I rule them,” he said simply, shrugging. 

“Oh, come now,” Persephone retorted, all hints of shyness gone, “certainly you know they are your power, just as Zeus knows that living mortals are his, and just as my mother knows the harvest is hers. Our existence is centered on obtaining the undying affection and respect from mortals.”

She was right, but he hated equating himself with anyone on Olympus. “Indeed, you are right,” he said tightly, taking a gulp of wine.

Persephone laughed, boldened by the wine he thought, and said, “Now I am the one offending tonight.”

“Nay, lady, you merely speak a harsh truth and that can never offend me.” Hades was eager to continue the conversation in this direction for he loved watching her push back, speak her mind. He sat back and carefully said, “I confess I find your honesty and passion engaging. I hadn’t expected one less than a century old to have such strong opinions and insights, but that week you showed me you had no fear to share your mind with me.” It was a risk bringing up her abduction, but if not now, when?

Her smile never breaking, Persephone asked, “Is that why you abducted me? You thought I would be a shrinking flower? Someone easy to control?”

He winced at her sharp words but realized he had led himself into that trap, “No, my lady. I was not thinking that when I spirited you away.” Her gaze was steely and hard, but he refused to look away. “It was your grace, your charms, the way you were, just you. I apologize that I am not better suited to such flowery words.”

Her gaze softened a bit. She enjoyed watching him squirm, but she didn’t want to completely derail the conversation and end the evening early. There was little time before they would have to part and she didn’t want to leave in the morning feeling more uncertain than she already did. “Your words are fine. I learned decades ago that I needed to keep my opinions to myself were I to enjoy what little of the outside world I could observe. When presented with the opportunity to speak freely, I take it.” She sat back and sipped her wine, continuing, “Mother, the nymphs, now even Zeus and the other Olympians – I must watch my words. With you, however, I feel I can share my opinions without fear of punishment.” It was a big confession Persephone knew, but she had already gone to the trouble of sending Hades a letter to tell him she believed he would be a good husband. Was trust far behind?

Hades nodded his head dumbly, his heart pounding in his chest. “You honor me with your trust, my lady.” In truth, he had done nothing to earn it and wondered why she would give it so freely to him. Should he bring up the letter now, he wondered?

She sighed and said, “I only wish that you had come to me first rather than bartering with Zeus for me behind my back.” Her emotions came in waves, lust then anger and back again.

Hades looked away, out of the window. Would he ever be able to escape the guilt of what he had done? “There was no barter, Persephone. It was a conversation, Zeus asked me what I wanted. I told him the truth. Given your mother’s temperament, he suggested that I take you back to my realm first.”

“Hmm…the others had no problems sneaking into my mother’s sacred lands to court me.” It was a question phrased as a simple observation.

He sat there regarding her for a few long seconds. There was no lie he could tell, would want to tell her, that wasn’t hideous and the truth was not much better. Sighing, he said, “I…I am not one of the more fortunate gods, Persephone. I may have vast wealth and my realm is the only one which grows consistently every year, but…well you’ve seen my lands. None amongst the mortals or immortals envy my position. What hope could I have that the vibrant and lovely spring goddess would want to share my duties?” He watched her face carefully for a reaction, but she was guarded. “Truly, I am sorry for taking away your choice.” Hades rarely apologized for he was rarely wrong in his decisions. Yet he sat in front of the spring goddess prepared to beg her to forgive him if she requested it.

“Well, it is how mortal men treat their wives, is it not?” she asked simply, testing to see his reaction to the comparison.

He looked away, ashamed and angry. “In time, you will see that I am not like the mortals.”

“How did you even find me?” she asked, curious. She felt it must have been Zeus.

He turned his head to the side and said, “How any of your suitors heard of you. Hermes.”

“What?” she asked. “He would speak of me to others in secret? Leave me to fend off amorous suitors?” She was angry at Hermes but mostly angry at herself for not realizing it sooner.

“Forgive the boy. He’s been fond of you for a long time.” Hades said, though a twinge of jealousy nipped at his heart to think of the close bond his wife shared with the messenger god. “And he didn’t tell me outright. He was not careful in his words to Thanatos and Hypnos. In the Underworld, there are no secrets from its lord. It was inevitable that I would find out,” he said gravely.

“And does that extend to the queen as well?” she asked, somewhat haughtily. 

The jealousy in his heart melted, replaced by raw desire. He wished to hear her refer to herself as queen, wished to call her and embrace her as his queen. His voice low and quiet, he said, “The queen is privy to the same knowledge as the king. There should be no secrets between them.” He gently clasped his hand over hers on the table, letting the electric spark travel up his arm and straight to his groin.

Persephone looked down at his hand and then back up at him. Forget holding herself back, she wanted to feel something with this being tonight, even if they didn’t consummate their marriage the traditional way. No, she thought a slow entry into such acts was what she required, for it would help calm her nerves as much as it would keep him engaged. She had been an adult for decades; it was time to take her pleasure as one. “I believe that the day has finally caught up with me,” she said.

“Do you wish me to leave?” he asked, not removing his hand or his eyes from hers. 

“No.”

“Very well, I will take the couch,” he said, wishing to be corrected.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at the couch over her shoulder. Laughing, she said, “That’s half of your size!” She turned back to him, her eyes sparkling with a challenge, and smiled, “I will take the couch. You may have the bed.”

It wasn’t what he wanted. Even if they did not consummate their marriage this evening, he wanted to at least hold her in his arms, feel her heartbeat against his and her breath on his neck. But he needed her to ask him – he had done enough by abducting her, he would not take her choice away here, not even try to influence her by asking. “I will not have my queen sleeping on the couch like some handmaiden. I will sleep on the floor and you may take the bed.”

She was a little flustered. Why was it so hard to get him to ask to share the bed? Oh well, Persephone would just have to be direct. “Well…the bed is quite large. I am sure we could share it without having to infringe on each other’s space.”

“As my lady wishes,” was all he said internally suppressing the hope that was bubbling up. Hades stood and removed his himation, revealing a knee length, one shoulder chiton underneath. Walking over to the bed, he wondered if he should carry on this conversation. He might embarrass her or he might intrigue her. “My bed is larger, but this will do.”

Behind his back, Persephone cocked an eyebrow though he couldn’t see it, taking time to consider his form from behind, paying special attention to the exposed broad shoulder. “Oh?” She smirked, and she was sure he could hear it in her voice, “Then there will be plenty of space between us there as well. Definitely no boundaries will be infringed.”

He raised his head and half looked over his shoulder, incredulous as to the implication, “Do you mean to imply that you will share my bed in the Underworld?”

Silence. She didn’t know how to answer the question without embarrassing herself or outright lying. The half truths Hermes so easily spouted, the clever wit she had learned from him utterly failed her in this moment. Flustered, her smirk fell away as she grasped for an appropriate quip.

Hades felt his heart sink, but internally reprimanded himself for being too pushy especially after he promised himself not to embarrass her. Looking to move past that, he turned back to her and said, “I merely jest with you.”

Persephone stood and made her way around the room, blowing out the candles and oil lamps, taking the time to compose herself. Finally, she walked up to him and grasped his arm, a faint smile returning to her lips. She examined the bed and then said, “I did not bring any robes with me. I will keep in my peplos.”

He would just have to imagine her naked body pressed against his, then. “I usually sleep naked – for comfort – but I too will stay as I am.”

Her smile broadening and a blush creeping up her neck, Persephone leaned in and whispered, “I do too – sometimes. Mostly when it’s very hot.” Then, leaning back, she cocked her head to the side and asked, “But I am confused – you sleep naked in the frigid Underworld?”

“Well, it’s not frigid, but it is cold. Yes, I find clothing very binding in bed,” he said, noting that as he spoke, she reached around her waist to release her girdle and toss it off to the side. 

Wordlessly, she drifted into the bed, pulling the silk blanket around her. He merely stared at her, the light from the fireplace casting a romantic glow around her, capturing the moment in his head, wondering if his future evenings with her would end up in such a blissful state. Persephone said nothing but cast him a look, a combination between curiosity – for his next action he assumed – and embarrassment – for standing and staring at her. Hades turned and walked to the other side of the bed and quietly got in, moving as if afraid to startle a deer. Slowly he pulled the sheets up and then laid on his back, staring straight up at the ceiling. He shouldn’t be, but he was afraid – afraid of ruining the seemingly happy evening they had. Inside his lust for her was begging him to engage in something physical, but his mind, ever the pessimist, told him that to do so risked her disgust. Things would become awkward and he would have to fight even longer to make it back to this point. Hades still wasn’t sure if she’d ever love or desire him, though he liked to think that this evening was hopeful on the desire part.

He was waiting on her, she thought to herself. Afraid to bridge the gap just yet, she said, “You must have received my letter.” Persephone knew he had, but had expected him to bring it up at some point. 

Hades exhaled a ragged breath and turned on his side to face her. She was facing him already, the silver silk covers pulled up to her neck so that only her face showed. “Never in my life have three simple words meant so much to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion. Everything was catching up to him, centuries of loneliness, centuries of disparagement from mortals and other gods, and he was working hard to keep himself in check. He hadn’t cried in over 500 years. 

She smiled and released an arm from the confines of the blanket, reaching out to touch his face. Her finger tips lightly skimmed his cheek just above his beard and across his lips eliciting a small shiver from him. Observing his reaction, Persephone let her fingers rest on his lips; he closed his eyes and pursed his lips to kiss her fingers.

His hand wrapped around her wrist and he gently tugged on her arm and then released his hand. It was an invitation, one she accepted. She had told herself she wanted to explore something with this god in front of her and now it was time to make good on that promise. The spring goddess pulled back the cover and crawled over to Hades, who leaned back. He would let her take from him what she wanted he reminded himself, though coherent thought was breaking down, replaced by pure emotion: surprise, joy, lust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something sexy is on the horizon.
> 
> As always, your feedback is welcomed and encouraged!


	7. When the Day is Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone and Hades explore each other.
> 
> **Warning graphic depictions of mutual masturbation.

Persephone knelt next to Hades, looking down at him, their eyes searching each other. It would be easy to get carried away, she knew, to let her emotions lead her through to the end she had fantasized the other night. Finally, she spoke, “I-I want…touch…but I am not ready to consummate.”

Hades nodded, too emotional to speak. Some would see this uncertainty as rejection. Certainly the other Olympians, save for perhaps Hephaestus, would not respect her wishes, would demand all or give nothing. She wanted to touch him, she wanted to be with him! And while he looked forward to the day when they could consummate their union, he would take what she gave him and willing give her all he could. He could already feel his cock twitching, straining under his woolen chiton and the silk cover. Gathering his wits, he said, “Lovely goddess, do with me what you will.”

She blushed and being so close to him, he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. Leaning forward, Persephone placed a hand on either side of his head and lowered hers slowly, tilting it to the side until her lips just brushed his. Hovering, the light touch filling him with anticipation, she finally pressed her lips to his firmly. Instinctively, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, moaning when their tongues met, swirling around each other. It was life giving for her, feeling the great king beneath respond to her, and the spring goddess could feel that life coursing through her the way her own power snaked through the soil, reaching out like roots through her body. Her breathing became harder, her abdomen fluttering, and her lower lips swelling in anticipation. She realized that the fabric of her peplos was a hindrance to her suddenly sensitive breasts.

Breaking from the kiss, they opened their eyes and stared at each other. While he had had several lovers over the course of his long existence, he knew he’d never want another after kissing her. She was vibrant and passionate and when she was ready, Hades was sure she would destroy him in their bed, an oblivion he desired. He raised a hand to her face and cupped her cheek, slowly lowering his hand down her neck, stopping at her peplos. Pulling her back into his embrace, he began to lightly kiss her neck, making his way to her ear where he nipped her lobe. He murmured, “Do you like my kisses?” Persephone moaned in response and he smiled to himself as he continued to drag his lips down her neck and across her sternum. He placed his hands on her hips and lightly dragged them up, stopping next to her breasts. Hades wanted to see and taste more of her.

Persephone understood what he was asking and wanted to know what it would feel like to have his mouth on her breasts. It was one of the images that had passed through her mind as she pleasured herself the other night. She pulled back from him and regarded him, his heavy breathing, his mouth parted, and his eyes…was that vulnerability? Swinging her leg over his lap, Persephone sat astride his abdomen, her knees on either side of his torso. Hades watched her movements carefully, but found he was unable to resist touching her, dragging his hands up her thighs to rest on her ample hips.

She unclasped the left side of her peplos and the fabric fell down, nearly exposing her breast. He gasped and took in a shuddering breath waiting, causing Persephone to smile and meet his gaze. His fingers pressed harder into her hips and she thought she liked that, liked feeling his strength. “Do you want me to finish unclasping my peplos?”

“Do you have to ask?” Hades asked, his voice rough.

“Well, I want to make sure you’re comfortable with what we’re doing,” she said innocently, though the smirk on her face said otherwise.

She was such a tease, he thought, and he relished every second of it. Smirking back, Hades said, “I will accept every gift you bestow upon me, my goddess.” He leaned forward a bit and the smirk disappeared, his voice low and firm, “And when you are ready, I will give you my gifts, many times over.”

The spring goddess parted her lips and sucked in a breath holding it as she undid the right clasp, only releasing it when the peplos fell in a puddle at her hips. Hades wasted no time in running his hands up her torso, stopping just shy of her heavy breasts. She was the most beautiful goddess he had ever seen and his cock now strained against the layers of fabric between them. Persephone could feel the warmth and roughness of his large hands on her skin, hovering just under her breasts. She gave him a look and pushed her chest forward, commanding him silently to touch her there.

Lifting them from her skin, Hades curled his fingers and caressed her nipples with the backs of his hands. The touch, ever so light, had the desired effect, causing Persephone to shiver and her nipples to harden. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, a strangled little moan escaping as he did it again, this time his thumbs grazing her peaks. Hades had imagined her breasts before, but nothing compared to actually holding them, feeling their weight and the softness of the skin in his large hands. And he knew that the look of pure ecstasy on her face would be what he remembered as he pleasured himself during the long cold nights they were apart.

Hades moved a hand behind Persephone’s back and held her in place as he sat up and ran his tongue around her breast, encircling the peak, taking his time in reaching the most sensitive part. When she huffed in frustration, he looked up at her and smiled as he ran his tongue over it, his hand occupied with her other breast. She moaned and thrust her hips forward against him, bringing her hands up to his shoulders and digging in her fingers. He was light with his touch, teasing, coaxing from her a response. “Harder, Hades,” she moaned and he obliged by gently nipping the hardened peak while his hand pinched the other one. He continued like this, switching between nipples, eliciting from her moans that increased in frequency and intensity the longer he played with her breasts. She was reminded of how she pleasured herself the other night with her fingers and how much she would now like for him to pleasure her the same.

His erection was begging to slip between her wet lips, to feel her warm core, but he resisted the urge to push her hips back against it and thrust. Hades did, however, release her breasts and look up at her, waiting for her next command. When she didn’t respond right away, he pulled her head down and kissed her passionately, pulling her chest against his, lightly running his fingertips down her spine.

Releasing her mouth, breathless, he pressed his forehead against hers and asked, “What do you want?”

Persephone bit her lip again and then said, “I-I want you to touch me as I touch myself…and I want to touch you the same.”

Moaning a whispered yes, he gently moved her to the side and stood up, removing his chiton. Persephone, sitting on her heels, her peplos still pooled around her hips, let her gaze drift down his physique. As she expected, the scar on his neck was one of many crossing his body. She knew Hades was muscular, but seeing them ripple without the constraints of fabric was enjoyable. His chest heaved as she let her eyes drift lower over the taper of his waist, to that male flesh that was somehow more impressive than she had imagined, springing long and thick from a thatch of black hair. Curious, she leaned forward and reached for it, and Hades eagerly knelt on the bed, encircling her hands around his hot and rigid flesh. “Like this,” he murmured as he guided her hands up and down his shaft.

She was cautious and slow at first, afraid of hurting Hades, but his hands squeezed hers around his cock guiding her on how best to pleasure him. Eager to learn, Persephone continued to move her hands up and down, watching his every reaction. He looked down at her, eyes darkened with desire, breasts bouncing in time with her jerking hands. It was all too much and he thew his head back and closed his eyes, letting himself get close to completion. Hades smiled to himself as he imagined how she would look with his seed dripping down her beautiful breasts.

It was too soon, he decided. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and stopped her hands. Persephone furrowed her brow and said, “But you haven’t…did I not…please you?”

Hades laid down, pulling her down next to him so that they faced each other. He stroked her face and said, “My precious one, you have made me feel more alive than I have in centuries. I... _need_ to satisfy you first before I complete.”

Persephone relaxed and smiled, laying on her back and shrugging her peplos off of her hips, which Hades was more than happy to pull away and toss over his shoulder. He let his eyes roam over her body, taking in the way her breasts spilled to the sides when she laid on her back, the soft curve of her belly and ample hips framing her oh so desired sex. She invited his hands to explore her body by pulling them down her torso, over her belly, and to her mound. “There,” she said, “touch me there,” and released his hand. Slowly, he moved it forward until he reached her lips pausing briefly before he pressed two fingers in and found her bundle of nerves, eliciting a gasp from her. Gently, at first, he stroked around it, teasing her, gauging her response. He watched as she moved her hands down her body to find her nipples where she began to tweak them, pinching and twisting them in time with his finger strokes. Despite the ignorance in which Demeter kept her, Persephone was the sensual creature he’d always imagined she to be.

Boldened by her response, Hades slipped his middle finger back to find her entrance, practically dripping for him, and stroked it lightly, waiting for her to let him in. She opened her eyes and pressed her hand over his, pushing his finger into her. Persephone sighed as he continued to stroke her nub with his index finger while his middle finger explored her depths, curling up to press on her sensitive flesh. After a few minutes, she began to roll her hips on the bed and Hades decided to increase her pleasure by slipping in his index finger as well and using his thumb to rub her bundle of nerves. He watched her face change as he continued to stroke her most sensitive areas, her eyes closed and brow furrowed, her mouth agape as moans escaped with every breath she exhaled. He felt her body tighten, go rigid, and then she thrust her hips up and let out a series of long and loud cries before dropping her hips back to the bed.

Hades watched and felt her orgasm and its aftershocks wash over Persephone, her face now content, her eyes slightly open, nibbling the edge of her index finger, a smile on her face. “You are beauty,” was all he could say. Removing his hand from her lips, he brought his fingers to his mouth and, to her surprise, licked them clean – never had she imagined such a thing! He laughed at her raised eyebrows and leaned forward over her, letting his erection blatantly drag across her abdomen, whispering in her ear, “My tongue can do better than my fingers.”

Persephone could only whimper at the thought. Finding her voice, she replied, “Perhaps next time you can prove it.”

Next time, he thought, there will be a next time. Overjoyed, Hades captured her mouth in a hard kiss and then whispered against her lips, “I need your hands on me…and I want to finish on your perfect breasts.”

The spring goddess was surprised again, but intrigued by his request and inclined to grant it, nodding her head and whispering yes. His face hard with desire, he pulled back, kneeling between her legs. Languidly, Persephone pulled herself up into a sitting position and gently grabbed his cock to bring him to completion. She smiled, almost drunk from her orgasm, but her hand movements were fast and hard and it wouldn’t be long now. The surprise of the day, being allowed to share this moment with his bride, her beautiful body, and the great pleasure she’d already given him kept him close to the edge. Suddenly he breached the point of no return, his hands gripping her shoulders, and called out, “Persephone I’m going to…uhh…uhh…UHH!”

Her eyes widened as his seed spewed out, landing in a couple of bursts on her breasts. Out of breath, Hades panted and closed his eyes, leaning his head forward against hers as a post-orgasmic shiver ran through his body. Kissing her forehead, he leaned back, taking in the way his seed dripped down her breasts, slowly slipping down to her abdomen. Persephone sighed and said, “I’m so tired,” and began to lean back.

Hades caught her and said, “First, let’s clean up and then we can go to sleep.” Standing, he reached down and picked her up and carried her in his strong arms to the far side of the room, behind a screen that separated the small bathroom from the sleeping quarters. He set her down and filled a bowl with warm water, using a washcloth to remove the amorous evidence from her body before turning to clean himself. Wanting to respond in kind, Persephone pulled the rag from his hands and slowly wiped his cock and legs clean. It was very intimate to Persephone and one of a series of surprises the harsh king of the Underworld had given her. Though, if she were honest with herself, his reputation never matched his behavior with her; she wondered if it was because of her, or if his reputation was exaggerated.

They walked back to the bed when they were finished and climbed back in, Persephone eager to get under the covers. After the heat of their activities had worn off and with the fire slowly dying, a chill began to settle in the room and instinctively Persephone sought him for warmth. Hades gladly folded her into his embrace, rubbing his hand up and down her arm to warm her up.

Quietly, she observed, “Though I am always surrounded back home, this is the first time I’ve shared a bed. It’s nice.” She also realized it was the first time she didn’t feel so lonely, but she wasn’t quite ready to verbalize that.

“It is,” was all he could reply. It only feels good when it’s the right person, he thought to himself, but he didn’t want to bring up any of his previous lovers. They were all in the distant past. This time as he descended into his dark and dreamless sleep, he did so happily. For the first time in hundreds of years, he didn’t feel like a pathetic wretch. He knew in his heart that he already loved her and hoped that she would be able to love him beyond the physical experience they had shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to let me know your thoughts.


	8. Green Eyes of the Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades and Persephone have a little morning foreplay and a short discussion.
> 
> Hermes talks with Aphrodite and finds out some interesting stuff.

The next day came too soon, the bright light of the morning sun bleeding through the windows and over Hades and Persephone, huddled together in the center of the bed. He woke first, unused to such light intruding, and took in a deep breath, smiling as he held the lovely goddess in his arms. Stretching out and yawning, Persephone raised her head from his shoulder and looked down at him, a sleepy smile gracing her face.

“Good morning,” he said, rubbing her back with his hand.

“Mmm….morning,” she replied and pulled herself forward to gently kiss him. He responded in kind and soon their kiss deepened, Persephone wrapping her arms around his neck to hoist herself up more. Finally, they broke free, the spring goddess taking advantage to reposition herself, a knee on either side of his hips. She sat straight up and ran her hands down her body, over her breasts, never taking her eyes off of his.

Hades arched an eyebrow and asked, “Does my queen require something this morning?”

“Mmm…she does,” Persephone purred as she grabbed his hands and drew them up to her peaked nipples. He found that he was not as patient this morning as he was last night, wasting no time in rubbing and pinching them. Her response was immediate as she began to gyrate her hips over his and a series of quiet moans escaped from her mouth.

Hades was already semi-hard when he woke, but the friction of her ass against him was enough to coax it up completely. He thought about how he would enjoy coming on her ass this morning if she were up for it. Just as he was about to suggest this, a light rapping on the door interrupted them. Persephone immediately stopped, her hand over her mouth and eyes wide. While irritated at the intrusion, Hades also found her reaction humorous and silently laughed.

The rapping happened again and the familiar voice of Hermes rang out, “Persephone are you awake? I have to take you back to Demeter soon.”

Dropping her hand and turning her head back to the door, she called out, somewhat meekly, “H-Hermes? I…just woke up.” She looked back at Hades and shrugged.

“Can I come in?” the messenger god asked, his voice hopeful. Hades’s laugh was replaced quickly by a scowl.

Persephone’s eyes bugged and she clasped her hand over her mouth again for a second before gathering her wits and calling back, “I’m not proper. I need some time to get ready.”

There was a short silence before the messenger god responded, “O-OK. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.” Hades was less than thrilled at the prospect of the little wise-ass messenger god holding his wife close to fly them back to the mortal realm.

When she was sure he was gone, Persephone got up and crept to the door, slowly opening it to peer down the corridor. There was no sign of anyone. Sighing as she closed and locked the door, Persephone turned around and said, “I wonder how he knew which room? Zeus brought me here himself.”

“Hermes has his way of finding things out,” Hades said sourly and the hint of jealousy in his voice didn’t go undetected.

Persephone snorted as she sat on the side of the bed looking at him, and asked incredulously, “Are you still jealous? I’ve told you, he’s my brother.”

“Are you sure he thinks that?” Hades asked, all hints of jealousy eradicated from his voice, but not his heart. He had to be careful here; things were too new between them.

Persephone shrugged and said, “I’ve only ever treated him as brother. I can’t worry about what he thinks.” Grabbing his hand, she leaned forward and said, “Let’s not delay on this topic any longer. I have to leave soon,” and then pecked him on the cheek before flitting away to gather her clothes.

He said, “You’re right. I do have to get back to the Underworld. This is the longest I’ve been away in centuries.” Standing up, he stretched and then scratched his chest.

As she began to dress, she said, “Well, I hope the Underworld can handle you being away for an evening every month.”

“I think it can,” he said with a smile as he watched her.

When Persephone was ready, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “Until then,” she said, raising her head.

Hades looked down at her and smiled, somewhat sadly, and stroked her face, saying, “My precious goddess, I enjoyed every minute of your company last night. It was…it was…” he searched for the right word.

“Perfect?” she supplied.

Cupping her face, he said, “Yes! It was and I will miss you greatly until next month.” Lowering his head to hers, he brushed her lips with his and then stood back.

Persephone smiled and said, “I will miss you too.” Then, not wishing to prolong the goodbyes and exacerbate the pain that was beginning to well in her chest, she turned and left.

Behind the closed door, Hades drifted over to the bed and sunk down into its soft cover, optimism beginning to win over his pessimism. He didn’t think it unreasonable to feel that Persephone was falling in love with him. The gentle way she touched him, the way she let _him_ touch _her_ , the closeness afterwards; it was more than sexual play to him – it had to be for her, too, right? He lamented that they were interrupted this morning, for he found the well of her love to be restorative more than any nectar served to him on Olympus. The memory of last night would have to keep him going through the next month.

Of course, he was jealous of the messenger god, but he would have to work through that on his own if he was going to continue to win over his lovely bride. He got the sense that she would not tolerate a raving fool and he would despise himself if others felt that way about him.

**************

The messenger god felt a stab in his stomach as he made his way back to the main part of the palace. Why did Zeus put her so far away from everyone else? He was sure he heard her moaning. Did she have company? Was it Hades? Hermes knew he had no right to be jealous, but he still felt it.

“Who saddens the happiest of us this morning?” came the feminine voice from an alcove he passed by. He stopped beyond the entrance debating.

Aphrodite. Hermes wasn’t sure he was up for her games right then, but he could never let an opportunity go to waste. After all, Aphrodite only truly interacted with the other Olympians when it suited her. It was a wedge years in the making – the goddess of love and her powerful reach was essentially an outsider to the rest of the Olympians in so many ways. She was neither sibling nor child of Zeus. She operated of her own accord, fiercely independent after centuries of virtual servitude to the Titans. And she was old, far older than Zeus, contemporary with Kronos and his ilk.

“Messenger boy? I know you’re out there,” she said playfully with a hint of authority.

Adopting his trademark smirk, he turned and walked in, navigating various potted plants and flowers until he found her stretched out on a couch, wearing a completely sheer silken seafoam green peplos that accentuated her most feminine parts, her long legs dangling off of the side. She hid nothing from the wandering eyes of others and Hermes cursed himself for visibly swallowing as he stepped in front of her, desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face and nothing lower. The shade of green contrasted beautifully with her strawberry blonde hair and shimmering hazel eyes.

“You called, Aphrodite? I don’t have much time,” he said, assuming a confidence he didn’t feel in front of her.

“Hmm…” was all she said as she examined him from head to toe. He swallowed again, much to his annoyance. Breaking her gaze and laying back, the goddess of love and beauty said, “It won’t work, you know.”

“What won’t work?” he asked, somewhat tersely, very much aware of what she was referring.

“Oh, you and I both know. It’s just a matter of time before she’s as in love with the great Underworld king as he is with her. And to think, that walking corpse resisted -,” she said, cutting herself off, leaving Hermes dangling on purpose.

“Resisted?” Hermes asked, fully aware he was being pulled into a game, but unable to fight its draw.

She looked over at Hermes and was silent for a moment before asking, seriously, “What was your plan anyhow?”

Hermes frowned and said, “Why are you so interested, Aphrodite? I’m surprised you’re not in Hephaestus’s forge, helping him with his hardening. Although perhaps you’re tired of his slag?”

“Love _always_ interests me,” she said simply, somewhat exasperated by the obvious question. She shrugged and sat up, facing him, all of her feminine charms drawing his gaze. Laughing, she continued, “Rude boy, you could aspire to his hardening.” She leaned back a little and stretched, arching her back, pushing out her gauze-covered breasts. “You need a distraction. The Fates can be cruel to our hearts, but lying to ourselves is cruelest of all.”

Slowly, voice distant and eyes raking over her body, he said, “But six months is a long time to be alone.”

Aphrodite smiled and rested her chin on her hand, never taking her eyes off of Hermes. “For some, although the corpse was alone for centuries barring one or two unfortunate nymphs. One of those wretched creatures even came to me for assistance,” she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Hermes wrinkled his chin and shook his head, pulling himself out of his stupor. “Wait, did you just say that a nymph asked you to help Hades fall in love with her? When?”

Aphrodite laughed, “What? Is the prospect of someone loving him so odd to you? To answer your question, yes, she asked me for help. She had absolutely nothing to offer me, but I helped her anyhow. What can I say? I am a fool for love!”

“Because she was a toy for your amusement,” Hermes said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What was her name? What happened to her?”

“Oh she still lives, but the poor wretched creature never quite got what she wanted. Surely she shared his bed for a time until he tired of her ways and forsook her. She cried her way back to whatever river she pulled herself out of and has been shedding her tears since.”

Hermes looked over his shoulder, wondering if Persephone had passed by yet, and then turned back to Aphrodite, sitting down on the edge of her couch and quietly asked, “Was this recent? What did she do to be cast aside?”

Aphrodite smirked, happy to see that her hooks were now deeply embedded in the god. “No,” she responded, sounding bored with the conversation. “It was some time ago…years? I don’t really know that she did anything other than be herself, which is enough.”

Perplexed, he shrugged, “So why tell me about it?”

She shrugged in response and said, “I had no point other than people can and do fall in love with anyone on their own accord.”

“Much like you and Ares. Apologies, I meant you and Hephaestus.”

She rolled her eyes at the obvious jab she expected from him. “Our relationship is directly related to the roles we play within this construct.”

Hermes laughed, louder than he wanted, and said, “Construct? Such words for our home. Tell me, goddess of love, what has Ares done to earn your ire?”

Looking bored, she cocked her head to the side and said, “He’s kept a secret from me. And I was bored.” Leaning back, she sought to end the conversation, “Go, your beloved waits for you.” She shooed him away with her hand, watching his retreating figure, a young man with a boyish perspective, intelligent but not wise enough – yet. Hundreds of years older than Persephone and he seemed little more mature than she. Perhaps he only needed the right guidance to attain his best?

Shaking his head, Hermes left her behind as quickly as he could, wishing he could get her words out of his head faster. It was no use. When he arrived at the front entrance, Persephone was already there and he immediately blushed and felt his words escape him. He was embarrassed for her to gaze upon him whilst he thought of ways to undermine her marriage. He was suspicious of the sudden glow about her, a happiness he hadn’t observed in her, well, ever. He was going to have to find out about Hades whereabouts last night and this mysterious nymph. It was time for him to accidentally run into Thanatos again.

Words between them brief and the atmosphere tense, Hermes scooped up Persephone and darted out, back to the mortal realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? Your comments inspired me to finish this chapter tonight. 
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts!


	9. Dreams and Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodite banters with Athena and then has an interesting conversation with her old lover, Poseidon.
> 
> Hermes is depressed and Thanatos tries to cheer him up. It doesn't work.

The cool and gentle breeze tangled through her long reddish blonde hair as she leaned against her balcony and watched the young god and goddess descend into the clouds and away from Olympus. Her face betrayed no emotion, but internally the goddess of love looked forward to their return. There was so much potential for both of them – separately of course; there was no doubt in her mind that their paths were diverging at this point. In her long life, Aphrodite had seen it many times over: unrequited love and its associated pain and suffering. In this case, however, she knew of a way to ease the afflicted heart of the young god. Leaning on an elbow, she stared out, not really seeing anything in front of her, lost in her own memories both recent and old.

Often her mind would drift back to her early years, when she first emerged from the sea and sometimes, when there was little else to think on, her mind would provide her with hazy images of something else, something…older. At times she thought it was the memories of Ouranos since she germinated from him alone. Certainly, in the early days as she had no mother, Kronos and his ilk treated her as an extension of Ouranos or even his reincarnation and not as the young sister she was to the Titans. And while Aphrodite was known to indulge in cruel and petty acts when provoked, she thought herself above the cold heartlessness embraced by Ouranos and his son, Kronos.

Stretching, Aphrodite yawned and turned back to re-enter Zeus’s grand palace, grabbing her mantle and wrapping it around herself casually. There would be few in attendance today. Ares had left to attend to the stirrings of war in the mortal realm. Hephaestus was at his forge for who knows how long. Zeus had left early to handle a situation in the mortal realm which everyone knew meant he was pursuing a young mortal woman, nymph, or lesser goddess. Hera, bitter, retreated to her quarters to stew and plan her revenge. Artemis and Apollo had wandered off somewhere into the mortal realm. The goddess of love and beauty was considering her plans for the day when a voice cut through her thoughts.

“Scheming again? Finding a way to bring those two together?”

Aphrodite lifted her head and smiled a little at Athena. She was the master war strategist who sat in opposition to the passionate Ares. Logical, political, and wise, she was all of the good parts of her unfortunate mother, Metis, and none of the bad parts of her father, Zeus. And while the rivalry between Ares and Athena was always palpable, Aphrodite begrudgingly had to admit she admired the goddess even if she were Zeus’s favorite daughter. Clearing her throat, Aphrodite responded, “You mean Persephone and Hermes? Oh, most definitely not. Hermes is too precious for one such as Persephone.”

“Are you jealous of such a young goddess?” Athena smirked.

Aphrodite snorted and said, “Certainly not, although I fail to see the attention she commands.”

Athena crossed her arms and leaned against a pillar debating how much she wanted to continue this conversation but decided to indulge her curiosity. “Then what occupies you so? You had a faraway look just now.”

“Just thinking about the old days…” she said, trailing off. Then, as if possessed, she asked, “What do you think happens to us when our duties are complete?”

Her gray eyes twinkled as she sized up her companion, struck by the surprisingly deep question from the goddess of love. “But our work is never complete. There will always be lovers to unite and break apart. There will always be wars. I’m sure you’ve seen the patterns repeat themselves in each generation born, both mortal and immortal. It is a great feat, indeed, to change the universe enough to alter behavior. Whoever has done this?”

Aphrodite thought a moment, and said, “Kronos. Zeus.”

Athena laughed and shook her head, “Indeed not. The story is the same even if the players are different.”

Aphrodite arched her brow and asked, “Are you saying that Zeus is Kronos?”

Athena smirked, “Are you trying to twist my words into treason, dear Aphrodite?”

“Never! I’m merely following what you call _logic_ to its conclusion,” the goddess of love said innocently. She both loved and hated their interaction and it stirred something within her that was distantly familiar.

“Indeed…though I cannot agree with you. Though both our father and Kronos ruled the immortals, Zeus never consumed his _children_.”

Oddly disappointed with her response, but unable to articulate to herself why, Aphrodite simply nodded her head and said, “I suppose you’re right.” With little else to say and eager to end the conversation, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to my pool to check on my swans.”

“And I am departing for Athens,” Athena said in her calm and detached voice, all traces of previous banter gone.

“Scheming of your own?” Aphrodite said, unable to resist lobbing one more across.

She simply quirked her eyebrow and said, “Well, I must keep an eye on your Spartan-god lover before he runs completely amuck in my sacred city. And, yes, scheming if you mean preparing for Persia.” Slightly bowing her head, Athena turned on her heel and walked off.

“Humph!” was all Aphrodite could manage, long after Athena had rounded a corner and disappeared.

Down by her pool, Aphrodite smiled to herself as she watched her swans interacting, the gentle way they greeted each other, pressing and turning the sides of their heads together. She stared at her own reflection in the water and was reminded of the dream she’d had so often had where she’d wander into a secret oasis naked, but when she entered the water her reflection was a blurred image of some other woman. It was like she was seeing something from the periphery and the more she concentrated on the image, the less she saw and the less she understood.

She heard a rustling in the grass behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Poseidon. He was much like his brother Zeus physically, a fact which did not appeal to her initially, but he was the only Olympian who defended her when her affair with Ares was discovered and her marriage to Hephaestus failed the first time. That was years ago, but she had held a fondness for him since.

“I thought you’d have gone back to the Sea by now,” she said absently.

“Not before I had a chance to see you,” he replied and then, sitting next to her and looking her over for a moment, he continued, “You look sad.” When she didn’t respond, he placed an arm over her shoulder and she leaned into his embrace, letting the odd tension that had built up flow out. All of her lovers, past and future, were gone except for Poseidon. Wilder and more unpredictable than even Zeus, he was always friendly to her, always had a soft spot for her which Aphrodite couldn’t quite understand since she hadn’t actually worked her charms on him. Interrupting her thoughts, he said, “You know, I never got the chance to ask you. My brother and the spring goddess – was that your doing?”

Aphrodite snorted, “No, that happened organically, though I could wish to claim credit for it. He was my greatest challenge and my greatest failure.”

Poseidon laughed, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Hades is…difficult to pin down. He doesn’t like our ways. He doesn’t really seem to like much of anything. Frankly, I was surprised at such a bold move.”

Aphrodite smiled wryly, “He was lonely.”

It was Poseidon’s turn to snort as he leaned back on his arms, “That’s his own doing. He’s always been too serious for his own good.”

Aphrodite looked over at her former lover but could not argue with him. Hades was…infuriating to her. Her haste to assist Minthe in coupling with him was driven by her desire to see the great king of the Underworld break down and accept the supremacy of love, but Aphrodite had learned a painful lesson there. If Minthe was the most beautiful of the Underworld nymphs, then surely Hades was doomed to loneliness. “It’s not like he had much choice, Poseidon.”

Arms now folded behind his head as he lay entirely in the grass, he furrowed his brow and said, “What? Preposterous. He had that nymph for a while – what was her name again?”

“Minthe. She was terrible. I made such a mistake in helping her,” Aphrodite said, shaking her head.

Poseidon half shrugged and said, “Hades is the eldest of us. He’s responsible for his own heart. Besides, there are plenty of mortal-realm nymphs and goddesses he could have chosen eons ago.” Poseidon started cackling to himself, “Zeus can’t go a day with thinking about intercourse and Hades goes centuries. I can’t fathom it.”

Despite her somber mood, the goddess of love couldn’t help laughing along with Poseidon. When he was in a good mood, it spread to those around him easily, and those were the times she understood why she had taken him to bed. Between his terrible tempests was a calmness that made life easy, even happy.

**************

Hermes had been in the Underworld for several hours, having just led the souls of a shipwreck to Styx. Without coins and proper rites, these souls were destined to walk the banks of Styx for a century before hard-hearted Charon would give them leave to pass. The messenger god found such a predicament depressing, adding to his already down mood after dropping Persephone off with her mother, who had, of course, prepared a lovely breakfast for her daughter and had subtly indicated that Hermes was not invited to dine with them. He liked to believe that there was always a solution to every problem, but here there was only the unyielding certainty of death. It was part of his duties, but he reasoned he didn’t have to love every aspect of his job.

A loud scream shook him from his thoughts and he jumped up, only for the wings on his sandals to gently drop him down. He looked around for the source, but only saw that the souls wandering the shores become agitated, some moving about quickly. “What was that?” he asked aloud to no one in particular, though he looked over at Charon who patiently waited for passengers, ignoring the young god.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Hermes jumped up into the air again, this time even higher, nearly the height of a mortal. His sandals, perhaps tired of his foolishness, let him fall to the ground with a thud. It was the sound of laughter, though, that brought him to his feet as he indignantly brushed the damp soil of the riverbank off of his legs. Turning around he said flatly, “Very funny, Thanatos. Original too – scaring someone in the Underworld.”

“Oh, come off it, Hermes. You would’ve done the same thing to me! But I don’t get scared in the Underworld!” he said between peals of laughter. Hermes crossed his arms, but couldn’t maintain his indignant frown for long before laughing along with his friend.

After they calmed down, Thanatos said, “I take it my sister frightened you.”

“Sister? That noise came from your sister? Wait? What sister?”

Thanatos rolled his eyes at the young god in front of him. Though still youthful in appearance, Thanatos was far older than Hermes. “The Keres? I know you were alive when they trawled the mortal world before. You were probably just too busy gallivanting around on Olympus to notice the wars.”

Hermes nodded his head, “Oh… _those_. Why is she screaming?” He gave a little involuntary shiver thinking about the stories Zeus had told him about the Keres years ago. He knew that they were death spirits that scoured the battlefield for dead bodies to feast upon, but he was never home on the battlefield and his tenure in the Underworld had started after the last war. They were easy to forget.

Thanatos sighed and said, “Come, let’s walk. I must meet with Hades shortly and I can’t be late. He’s in an uncharacteristically good mood; I hate to tell him the Keres are starting to wake up.”

Hermes smiled wryly to himself but didn’t have to bite back his smart tongue this time. He was too emotionally drained for it. Holding Persephone as he flew her home had been the sweetest agony. Her distant good-bye once they’d landed followed by Demeter ignoring his presence winded him. The young messenger god knew that his plan to convince Persephone to love him during her above ground months was slowly evaporating away…but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He was sure he could prove himself a worthy lover to her given the right opportunity.

At Hades’s palace, Thanatos and Hermes were ushered in to his throne room where he was consulting with his three judges. He looked over at them and briefly acknowledged Thanatos, but went back to his previous conversation. The young psychopomps hung back, near the door to the throne room, leaning against the wall just outside of the reach of the light from the oil lamps that hung around the perimeter of the room.

Hades looked every bit as powerful as Zeus, Hermes thought to himself. To his dismay, he saw that a second throne had been constructed next to Hades’s own, no less grand. Did Persephone like that? Of course she did, he told himself. Who wouldn’t want the love of one of the most powerful gods? And he had had the audacity to give her equal rights in the Underworld, something Zeus and Poseidon would never concede to their wives. Hermes had no power to give Persephone, only his attention, his inventive mind, and his quick wit. Surely after six months of ruling the Underworld, a reprieve in the mortal realm with nothing to worry about except making flowers bloom would make her receptive to the kind of love he could offer?

Perhaps not. Sighing, Hermes rested the back of his head against the wall with a thud. Thanatos looked over at him and wrinkled his chin. “Something bothers you, friend? Not still worried about the Keres?”

Hermes choked out a small bitter laugh. “No, indeed, my friend. It’s a more tender issue which consumes my mind.”

Thanatos nodded his head and said, “Ah, I understand. Still pining for her? Best to not let our great lord see that else he will send you to Tartarus.”

“I wish he would. I could at least spend my time consumed with fighting off monsters and long-neglected titans rather than think about… _any_ of this.”

Thanatos nodded his head and said, “You may get your wish. The Keres will send the soldiers directly to Charon, but if things like scarcity and pillaging start happening, we’ll find ourselves very busy indeed. Maybe that will take your mind off of _her._ ”

Hermes laughed and said, “We should encourage the violent death of mortals to ensure I can distract myself from my broken heart? Do I have that?”

Nonchalantly lifting a shoulder, Thanatos’s response was blasé, “I’m the god of death. Should I care?”

Just then, Hades cleared his throat and said, “Thanatos, Hermes, you may approach.” Both came before the king and fell to one knee and then rose, the act of deference leaving a sour aftertaste for Hermes.

Thanatos kept his head lowered and said, “My lord, the Keres begin to rise.”

Hades exhaled and sat back on his throne, grimly saying, “War.” After a short pause, he said, “Very well, Hermes go above and discover details on whatever little war Ares and Athena have planned. You are dismissed. Thanatos, please stay.”

Hermes nodded his head and turned to leave as swiftly as he could. Although he did not like Hades at the moment, being dismissed while Thanatos remained made him feel inferior inside. He had nothing. He was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I wrote half of it and then struggled to finish the rest, especially with work being so hectic. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy it. I love and welcome your feedback.
> 
> PS - I am so excited to bring the Keres into this story. They won't be making an appearance for a few chapters, I think.


	10. Distant Rumblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ares meets with his daughter. He's a good father...when he's around.
> 
> Persephone delves into a sexual fantasy alone at night in order to relive her passion with Hades and to work through some of her embarrassment regarding sex.
> 
> ****Warning, graphic sexual content discussed.

He wanted to be angry with Aphrodite, but for the first time in his existence, he couldn’t blame her for what happened. If he were truly honest with himself, which was less often than frequently, he was restless, had been restless for a long time. Without war, he was the god of nothing, the god of idleness; such time allowed him to think on the things he despised most: his father, his forced lot, the hatred he endured from most in the pantheon. He would do better residing in the Underworld with the shades he sent there from his wars. And yet the thought of living under the rule of Hades was unappealing…he was as miserable as Ares, but he kept it all inside, an endless vacuum pulling in the solemn darkness, the restless spirits, the haunting presence of the titans and monsters below, and, perhaps grimmest of all, the overwhelming loneliness. Although perhaps Hades was lonely no more.

Persephone. Ares liked her enough, found her energy attractive, but did not love her, nor would he ever. His courtship was nothing more than an attempt to feel something more than the useless boredom that occupied his thoughts. Aphrodite was right to leave his bed, though he knew his hooks were still in her when she took up with Hephaestus. After all, the goddess of love could have anyone, but to take up with the husband she never loved? That was spite and it was used by those with wounded hearts…or wounded pride. Either way, Ares knew that eventually he and Aphrodite would reconcile for they shared a bond he had never observed in the other immortals. Sometimes, when he would let his thoughts drift, he would remember wars of the past, the glory of the battlefield, though some of the memories were hazy, hard to focus. Those were the thoughts that made him feel strange, like he was crawling outside of his skin.

So he left for Athens, the promise of war on his mind, but the presence of his human daughter, Alcippe in his heart. Ares knew he was violent and bloodthirsty, but women held a special place in his soul. Unlike his cruel father, he saw no point in raping women; conquest was for the battlefield, not the bedroom. A woman who didn’t want his company was a woman his honor – and his pride – wouldn’t let him have. He smiled to himself as he thought of Alcippe, the human daughter he loved more than any of his other mortal children, born from a torrid affair he’d had with the Athenian princess Aglauros.

Alcippe, still a teenager, lived with her mother, though Aglauros was often not around, tending to duties at the castle. Ares found that spending time with her calmed him, gave him purpose he lacked when there was no war. Unlike his father, who enjoyed making children and not raising them, Ares found it easy to engage with his children and, while he was not present as often as he would like, he made the most of the time he did spend with them. He found himself thinking this as he and Alcippe walked along the training grounds of Athens. Although more at home in Sparta, where his passion on the battlefield was revered, Ares invested his time in Athenian military affairs more and more lately as Athena had been too occupied with other duties. In fact, Ares found her excuses a pathetic attempt to indulge in Olympian complacency. It happened to all immortals; sooner or later one would tire of their endless duty and then _something_ would happen. They would try to take on someone else’s role, causing conflict. They would do something drastic, such as Hades’s kidnapping Persephone. Or they would stop their duties all together.

“Ugh, always trying to show off,” the disdain in her small voice jarring.

Ares looked down at his daughter and then back out at the Hoplites sword training in the distance. While they typically fought with their spears, Ares chosen weapon, Hoplites had short swords for close combat. “Who is?” he asked, looking back down at his daughter.

Reluctant to point, she nodded her head in their general direction and said, “Halirrhothios.”

Ares watched closely and observed a skilled soldier sparring with two others. “Ah, I see what you mean. He is very good.”

“He is the son of Poseidon,” she said with disgust.

Ares chuckled and said, “And what of it? Poseidon is a terrible warrior.”

Alcippe laughed a little, the first time since he’d arrived a few days ago. He wondered if she were always so somber.

They continued to walk a bit, Alcippe fiddling with the folded edge of her peplos. “Father,” she asked softly, “next week I am sixteen. I know that my mother will try to find me a husband soon.”

He stopped walking, feeling the air pushed out of his lungs. Was she really of age? Where had the time gone? Ares looked down at her and asked, “Do you not wish to marry?”

“I-I don’t know. I know it’s what’s expected, but I am worried,” she said, her black eyebrows furrowed over her large dark-brown eyes.

Ares grabbed her hand and said, “My daughter, know that I will not abandon you. If you decide you do not wish to marry, tell me. I can make arrangements for you to live elsewhere.”

Nodding, Alcippe smiled slightly, the relief in her voice betraying how anxious she really was, “Thank you, father.” Her voice trailed off and her eyes looked off to the side, as if gathering her thoughts, or her courage, to continue. Finally, she met his eyes and said, “But all my life all I wanted was to learn to fight, to be like you. Always, I was denied, but now you are here. Please father, show me how to fight and let me join you in war.”

Ares wrinkled his brow and asked, “Is this why you wanted to come to the training grounds? Alcippe, war is hard, loss of life is likely. I will never deny you learning how to train to defend yourself, but I cannot let you on the battlefield.”

She wrinkled her forehead and looked away, “But father, I feel inside the burning passion to fight.”

Ares sighed and placed a massive hand on each of her shoulders, swallowing them up under his grip, “War is not fair to mortals, but it is a necessity. When the Persians come – and they will come – many good soldiers will die to defend this city. My word is final – you will not be one of them.”

She looked away, crushed by the weight of her reality. Regaining her composure, Alcippe asked, “Where would you take me…if I wanted to leave?” Despite her attempts to remain calm, her voice wavered at the end.

Ares knew he’d upset her, knew that he couldn’t let her do what she wanted and live with himself for the rest of his eternal existence. War brought out his talents which were, if he were honest, terrible qualities to have, immortal or not. Exposing his mortal daughter to the bloodshed of war was not something he wanted to imagine and he hoped his answer would help her accept this. “There is a city far from here, northeast, on the Pontos Euxeinos* that is sacred to me. It’s ruled by women…by my…immortal daughters.”

Alcippe lifted her head and said nothing, but her eyes were wide innocent pools, eagerly awaiting her father to tell her more.

“They will train you to fight, to defend yourself.”

Alcippe dared to let a small smile grace her lips as she asked, “And what is the name of this city, father?”

“Themiskyra,” he said proudly.

**************

Persephone had been home for a few days and the loneliness began to hover over her again. Her first day had been wonderful, beaming from the intimate experience she’d had with Hades and treated to a wonderful breakfast by her mother. But the sadness started to snake around her at night and there was nothing she could do to alleviate it, not with nymphs always around especially when she slept outside. She wanted to relive her magical experience with Hades, but with no privacy found herself frustrated. She considered moving her couch back to her room permanently, but such an act of privacy would raise suspicions from her mother, something which caused Persephone embarrassment.

Exhaling a deep, unsatisfied breath, Persephone sat up and looked around. The nymphs were all asleep, the night was clear, and the moon hung heavy and large in the sky. She knew her mother would be asleep by now, being of a nature to retire and rise early, in her own room of course. That familiar feeling roiled in Persephone’s lower abdomen; her heart was beating hard, and she knew if she didn’t expel this energy soon it would begin to affect her duties. Smirking to herself, Persephone realized that once she’d sipped the relaxing waters of self-gratification, that she would be a frequent visitor. This is perhaps why she felt the need to walk so far in the night away from the sleeping nymphs.

Looking over her shoulder, Persephone stopped her silent walk to scan the scene behind her. None of the nymphs had woken and for that small miracle she was grateful. In a passing thought, she wondered if Hypnos could make the nymphs – and her mother – sleep heavily at night but immediately cast the thought aside guiltily. Continuing on her walk, she made her way out of the clearing which surrounded her mother’s house and into the woods where there was a small pond which reflected the haunting light of the moon, casting an ethereal glow upon the surrounding growth.

Dipping her toes into the cool water, Persephone shivered a bit, and then let the ripples that cascaded out captivate her for a minute before unfastening and dropping her chiton to the ground. She walked into the water, giving herself a few seconds to acclimate to the temperature, her nipples hardened to pebbles. Behind her, an owl hooted into the night. On a rock nearby, a frog jumped off and into the pond with a little splash. All around her the sounds of nocturnal life seeped out of the woods and across the water. A knowing little smile crept across her lips as she dipped her hands into the water and then ran them up her skin, the trail reflecting moonlight off of her goosed flesh. It was a pity, Persephone thought, that she hadn’t discovered this sooner; the thought of Hades spying on her in this state sent shivers of desire through her limbs. She ran her fingers over her nipples and threw her head back, closing her eyes. In her mind, Hades was in the water, standing behind her. She could feel his erection pushing against her lower back as his hands searched her body. Slowly, his muscular arms snaked around her abdomen and his head leaned forward until she felt his breath on her ear whispering, “How may I please my queen?”

A small moan escaping her lips, Persephone pulled his hands up to her breasts where he began to lightly rub his thumbs over the hardened peaks. Dissatisfied with such teasing, she impetuously moaned, “Harder! Pinch them!”

Chuckling in her ear, he obeyed her command, but said nothing, letting his lips and tongue glide across her neck and jaw. After a few minutes, he teased her, asking, “Is that _all_ you want?”

“T-touch me…below, Hades,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

“Below where?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you want.”

“Oh, you know,” she moaned, “you just want to hear me say it.”

“Well? Are you going to keep me guessing?” She could hear the smile in his voice as he nuzzled the side of her head.

Blushing, Persephone cleared her throat and said, “Touch my lips.”

“Mmm? Which ones?”

The impatient goddess grabbed his arm and pulled his hand to her mound. Hades slipped his fingers further down and over her wet entrance and said, “Oh, you mean your pussy? Your _cunt_?” She shivered at his emphasis. Chuckling again, he pushed his fingers in and found her pearl, rubbing it with his index finger. “You mean your clit?” With his other hand, he pulled her closer to his abdomen and thrust his hips forward, rubbing his erection harder into her skin and causing her to gasp in pleasure. “Feel how hard you make me, my queen?” She felt surrounded by Hades, blissfully overwhelmed by his darkly magnetic presence.

Then he stopped and she whined. He came around to face her and, pulling her hands into his own, led her to the rocks down a little on the side of the lake, motioning her to sit. Persephone obeyed, leaning back on her hands, staring at him curiously. Hades smiled at her knowingly and asked, “You didn’t forget, did you?”

Realization dawned on her and she said, excitedly, “Oh…yes! You promised me your tongue next time.”

“And I make good on my word,” he continued, falling to his knees in front of her and pulling her legs up onto each of his shoulders. The water was nearly chest height when he knelt and her feet skimmed the surface as he moved closer to her. Never breaking eye contact, Hades moved his mouth forward until she felt his breath on her lower lips. Slowly, he extended his tongue and licked them lightly before using his hand to separate them and reveal her swollen bundle of nerves. Pushing forward, he rolled his tongue around it several times, watching her face for a reaction. Persephone threw her head back and moaned softly so he continued to lick little circles around her clit. When he dared to run his tongue over it, she bucked her hips forward a little and repositioned herself on the rock to free a hand and play with her breasts. The sight of her in such ecstasy caused Hades to moan as he continued to lick her, his face buried deep in her sex, the vibrations of his moan causing Persephone to whimper.

Possessed with bringing her to pleasure, Hades brought one of his hands up and caressed her entrance before slipping in his index finger and curling it up. He was rewarded with her tightening her legs around his head. Persephone felt him slowly pumping his finger in her and that combined with his attention to her clit made her slide back on the rock. She closed her eyes and continued to rub and pinch her nipples, letting the pressure build in her lower abdomen. Stretched out on the rock with the great lord of the Underworld on his knees before her sent electrical shocks of pleasure through her and finally the goddess crested, stifling her cries into her arm.

Persephone opened her eyes and looked around, standing still in the cool water around her. To her infinite relief, there was no one around. She was alone and the feeling of longing came back to her oddly clashing with her post-orgasmic relaxation. Looking over and making her way to the rock which had just played an important part in her fantasy, the goddess hoisted herself up and then pulled her legs up to her chest. Persephone wouldn’t deny that she felt better after self-gratification, but afterwards it would have been nice to be held by Hades at least until the feeling of vulnerability subsided. Letting her mind wander a bit, she thought she might have ended her fantasy a little soon. What would Hades expect in return? Based on their previous intimacy, she didn’t think he’d pressure her to do anything she didn’t want, but Persephone wondered how fair it would be to expect such pleasure without returning it. What would she want to do? She blushed thinking about how it would feel to wrap her lips around his cock and take it into her mouth. There was no way she would be able to take it all in, she was sure. When he came on her breasts, it had been such a turn on, but Persephone wasn’t quite sure that tasting his seed would be as erotic. And the words – getting used to the dirty words would take her time. Oh, she had heard them plenty of times out of the mouths of nymphs, but she had always been the listener, the distant observer who would never have a chance at intimacy of any kind.

What about taking his cock inside? Persephone smiled to herself and realized that yes, the thought of riding him to his oblivion made her stomach flip in anticipation.

She shivered to herself, partly from the chill of the night air, and got out of the water. After dressing herself, the goddess returned as quietly to her couch as possible, happy to see that none of the nymphs had woken whilst she was gone. Laying down, she folded her arms behind her head and stared out into the night sky, waiting for the pleasure of before to lull her to sleep like last time. It was a long time coming, for Persephone had much to consider before her next visit to Olympus and the excitement of such thoughts chased sleep away. The moon and the darkness of night waited for no one.

**************

While Persephone wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, she knew something had woken her up. The first thing she noticed was the thin light of morning on the horizon. The second thing she noticed were the other nymphs looking around.

It happened again.

A slight rumbling shook the ground beneath her and instinctively, she looked over at Aitne** and then back at the nymphs, catching her mother hovering just outside the house, staring at the mountain as well. Her grim countenance did little to reassure Persephone, but the spring goddess knew it was futile to ask Demeter and expect a useful answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Black Sea
> 
> **Mt. Etna
> 
> ***Note I am taking liberties with timing here. Alcippe and Halhirrothios happened approximately 1000 years before the events of the Greco-Persian war. I don’t mean to offend anyone who follows Greek mythology very closely. I just had this idea that’s been stuck in my head for weeks.
> 
> It took me a little longer to get this chapter out as it's important in setting up some future events. 
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts. Comments are welcome and encouraged!
> 
> Thanks for reading. :-)


	11. Author's Note

Hey Everyone,

I've been sucked up with work the last few weeks, making writing tough for me. I have a few projects coming to a close over the next week (hopefully) and will probably work pretty long days. 

I don't want you to think I have given up on the story - I am so excited to add more chapters, I just need a little more time to get them out right now. I will update as soon as I can!

Thank you all! I appreciate you reading my work. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, good and bad.

Have a great rest of the weekend. :-)

\--LTTP


	12. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades has a terrible night fighting his jealous demons and then is faced with the prospect of an ancient foe waking up. He seeks counsel with Hecate.
> 
> Hermes has a conversation with Hypnos and Thanatos. He has to make a decision.
> 
> Lots of unrest.

He lied in his large bed, cold, naked, and lonely _._ The euphoric bliss of their special night and the promise of a future spent together as true husband and wife made the grim lord of the Underworld happy, but it also made him long for her. He wanted to taste more of her, to know her as deeply as two immortals could, but feared he would smother her with his love. Demeter had kept so much from her. Did she have previous lovers? A god certainly not, for such an affair would never be kept secret – but perhaps a satyr or nymph or young mortal? He knew that Demeter had entrusted the nymphs to protect the young goddess, but they were sensual creatures and he wondered how much they had taught her. Surprisingly, this didn’t stoke his jealousy, only his curiosity. Slowly he rolled through her known suitors, but it was only Hermes who elicited such fire. Flopping over onto his side and crossing his arms, Hades realized that he would not be falling back to sleep that night when he recalled her words to him:

_“He showed me how to develop my powers. And he carried me on his shoulders when I was a child to let me pick fruit on the trees – the fruit I had grown! Truly, is that not the definition of a brother?”_

Hades wanted those things too: to help her develop her powers as a chthonic immortal, to help her become politically astute as befitting a queen, to hold her and carry her when she wanted. He _had_ held her in his arms, the recent memory eliciting an intimacy that warmed his heart as much as it pained him. Persephone could not see the ways in which others loved her. Everything was so new and he feared that time apart could damage the fragile buds of their relationship, especially when there were forces working against them. Hades’s mind swirled with images of Hermes carrying her, holding her close long after he had brought her back to Enna, touching her face, and gently kissing her lips. No! He had to have faith in his love, that she were honest with him, that she were not like the other Olympians, not like her father. Hades hated himself for his pessimism, but never had a lover elicited such passion from him.

The great king of the dead felt himself irritated at being jealous of such a young and foolish boy. Certainly Hermes had to have his own weak spot, but as soon as he thought it, he knew it was foolish. Anything he could do to Hermes would be met with disapproval by his wife. No, he had to let Persephone learn the depths of Hermes’s obsessive love and manipulations for herself; that didn’t mean, however, that the path couldn’t be cleared for Hermes to ruin himself. If Hades was tending to the delicate flower that was his new relationship, then Hermes was the weed trying to choke it out. Cutting it down would only ensure it grew again. No, the roots had to be pulled out as well.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bed softly jostling. Sitting up he looked around the room, the gentle flicker of the fireplace illuminating nothing of note. He felt it again and a feeling of dread descended upon his stomach. He could pretend to ignore it, but Hades, connected to the Underworld for so long, understood when something was amiss and there was definitely something happening. It felt old, chaotic, dangerous.

Gathering his energy, Hades stood up and slowly dressed in his black chiton and himation and slipped on his sandals. Sighing, he ran a hand through his messy hair and scratched his short beard knowing that the day ahead would be a very long one indeed. He wasn’t worried about waking his subjects for surely those with whom he needed to confer were already awake.

Walking down the hall, Hades observed that the shades which worked within the palace seemed agitated. Between the Keres a few days ago and now this, Hades was unsurprised; all the more reason to confer with his closest advisors. As he left the palace, he walked through the dim ethereal light of the Underworld towards the Acheron at the juncture where the Cocytus and the Phlegethon flowed into it. It was a violent place, where the hot flames of the Phlegethon and the icy coldness of the Cocytus collided giving off great amounts of steam. And as fearsome as the great river of fire was, it was the cold wailing Cocytus he disliked the most. It represented the worst of the Underworld: the cold emptiness of endless grief.

The walk was far enough and the situation he feared urgent enough to warrant an immediate transition, but he needed the time to collect his thoughts and prepare himself for the conversation he was yet to have. The goddess of the crossroads was a good friend and advisor, but conversing with her could be exhausting.

**************

Hermes landed softly on the banks of the Styx and deposited his most recently gathered souls. They were not notable enough to brag to Thanatos but still the young psychopomp sought the god of death. He hadn’t forgotten Aphrodite’s half-story about Hades and his previous lover. It was time for him to do a little digging.

Looking around the banks he only saw the shades and Charon. He skip-walked along the banks for a bit before the fluttering of wings caught his attention. Turning his head to the side, he peered into the shadows and saw the tips of white wings extending out.

“Ah, Hypnos, my friend!” Hermes said, genuinely. “Why is it that I always find you lurking in the shadows these days?”

Hypnos walked forward and faced Hermes, a broad smile on his face and his arms crossed. “Well, sometimes the waking world is more fun than dreamland, and you, my friend, have been keeping me entertained.”

Hermes wrinkled his brow and leaned back a bit. “I’m sorry?”

Hypnos said, playfully, “Do you forget? Even when I am here, part of me is still there taking in everything. Nothing in the dreamworld escapes me, not even the dreams of the gods.”

Hermes nodded his head and said, “So you sought me out? Why?”

Hypnos gripped Hermes on the arm and said, “Not only are you are a friend to me, but also to Thanatos and don’t I know how few his friends truly are. I merely come to speak with you, to help you.”

“With what?” Hermes asked innocently.

Hypnos shook his head and said, “You should leave it be.” Hermes sighed and tilted his head back, staring into the blackness of Underworld. Hypnos continued, “Ask yourself this – are you sure you truly have her heart? Hades is formidable if you make him a foe. All the more is your loss if you make an enemy and lose a friend in a single pass.”

The words were harsh and unwelcome, especially since they rang true with the small voice of reason in his head. Hermes tilted his head forward and took a few minutes to choke back his emotions as best he could before responding, “But I love her with everything I have!”

Hypnos put his other hand on Hermes’s arm and peered into his eyes, “It won’t be enough. And what do you think will happen when you talk to Minthe?”

Hermes snapped his head up, “Minthe? Is that Hades’s lover?”

Hypnos grimaced and then responded, “ _Was_ his lover and it did not end well.”

Hermes had a name now and would not be deterred by logic. He had to meet this nymph, had to know her story from her own mouth. Hermes nodded his head and said, “You’re right, Hypnos, but it’s hard.”

Hypnos smiled and said, “I know, but with time, you’ll be right again. I see how the wounded heal in their dreams. Put this behind you – seek love in the arms of others if it will help you.”

Mechanically Hermes nodded and watched as Hypnos took a few steps back into the shadows before disappearing entirely. Even as his friend left, he wondered where Minthe resided. She must be a resident of the Underworld. A river nymph perhaps? Acheron? Cocytus?

He walked along the banks of the Styx working through conversations he could have with Thanatos to gain more insight. He _would_ have to ask the god of death since there were few others he could ask and not risk it getting back to Hades. Hecate? Forget it, she was his advisor and, in a different existence, could have been the rightful ruler of the Underworld. Charon? He didn’t bother with gossip and he’d probably complain to Hades about him running his mouth…again. Hermes would have to plan carefully his conversation with Thanatos since he knew the twins shared everything. He could make up a new love interest and lead with that. Perhaps not. He could lead with the intel he discovered on the war the mortals were planning. Then he could bring up the distance which had grown between he and Persephone (it wasn’t technically a lie since their trip back to Sicily had been painfully quiet). He could act defeated but contrite for having tortured his friend with his lovesick ramblings. See the foolishness of his ways. Utilize self-deprecation to lower Thanatos’s guard enough to drop hints about Minthe. He only needed to know where she lived.

Sighing, Hermes headed towards the dark palace of Hades to tell him about the impending Persian attack on Athens. He ascended the steps and looked around the ground floor. Thick dark pillars cast shadows that flickered with the light of the oil lamps. Shades mulled about. Down the hall, Hermes could hear the three judges conversing and rendering their decisions. Hades was nowhere to be found, probably off to the mortal realm to sneak Persephone away for another round of _whatever_ they did at Zeus’s palace the other day. The thought made his stomach churn. Frustrated, Hermes turned to leave to begin his trek back to the river Styx and then further up, to the mortal realm.

He walked into Thanatos. How fortunate!

“Thanatos! Greetings my brother in service, how are you? I think today you will have bested me – none of the mortals I brought in were noteworthy!” Hermes said with a humor he did not feel in his heart.

Thanatos, usually happy to see Hermes, appeared more reserved. 

“Thanatos?” Hermes asked, his brow wrinkling.

The god of death took in a deep breath and said, “Hermes, you are a good friend in that you are the only immortal who dares speak with me as an equal.” He laughed a short, bitter laugh that somehow sounded worse because it came from someone so soft-spoken and gentle. Thanatos continued, “I just ran into Hypnos and you and I both know you’re not going to drop this.” Hermes pursed his lips, but did not react otherwise. “And I know that Hades may strip you of your duties should you interfere in his marriage.”

“He won’t do that. It would hurt his relationship with Persephone,” Hermes said flatly.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. I wish I were as confident as you, but here in the gloom I’ve seen more than my share of humans doomed by their folly.”

“As much as I am fascinated by and love them, we’re not mortals, Thanatos,” Hermes said with a sigh.

“We make mistakes just the same. Do not think that because you are the favorite son of Zeus that he will not punish you for interfering with his brother’s happiness.” Thanatos paused, his eyes searching Hermes’s for a realization, a break in this obsession. When he could find none, he sighed and said, “But I see that my words are futile.” He turned his back to Hermes, the action oddly painful to the messenger god, and said, “I will tell you what you seek. Minthe is Hades’s forsaken lover and a nymph of the Cocytus. She shared his bed for a time, but she was terrible and I despised what little I’d seen of her. She reveled in his attentions at first, but soon became more enamored with his power over anything else. She ever-sought out that title of Queen. Slowly she insinuated herself into his duties, assuming what she could from him, but at every opportunity showed herself to be cruel and manipulative.”

“Is that not the Lord of the Underworld?” Hermes countered although he already knew the answer.

“Certainly not!” Thanatos responded, half looking over his shoulder. “He is harsh but fair. Now that you know, you must decide what you want.” Without another word, the god of death flew straight up into the blackness of the Underworld back towards the mortal realm to continue his duties. He dared not look back at Hermes, the pain of losing a friend to such foolishness stirring deep within him an anger he hadn’t felt before.

**************

“I expected you’d make it over here this morning,” the old crone said as she placed a cup of _something_ in front of Hades.

Hades arched an eyebrow and asked, “This is not _just_ wine. Dare I ask what you are serving me?” He lifted the cup up to his nose and his nostrils flared at the scent.

Smiling, she sat down – without a cup of her own, he noted – and said, “Oh it’s just a combination of a few things I threw together this morning. A little wine, some herbs, and barley water mixed in my own little way.”

He hesitated and said, “It’s a good thing I trust you, Hecate, otherwise I’d think you were trying to cast a spell on me.” Cackling, the goddess watched as he gulped every drop of the viscous substance down, a pained expression crossing his face. “Gods, that’s vile, Hecate,” he said as he forcefully slammed the bronze cup on the table.

She shrugged and said, “I’m the goddess of many things, but cooking is not one of them. Anyhow, I know why you’ve come.”

The air in the room felt suddenly heavy. The dull roar of the rivers converging could be heard in the distance through the walls of her windowless house. The fireplace behind him crackled lending an odd tension to the room.

Finally, he responded, “Yes, well…I am sure I will be gone awhile. Perhaps a few days. I have to check on Aitne.”

The goddess ran her fingertips over her chin and said thoughtfully, “What rouses a beast?”

Hades shook his head and said, “Magic, other immortals,” as if the answer were obvious. “Besides, Kronos released _him_ as a last-ditch effort to destroy us. Who are our enemies now? Gaia sleeps. The Titans are imprisoned.”

“Who indeed? And the Keres have awoken, so the mortals are heading towards war…” she continued, staring over his shoulder into the dancing fire.

“Before you make a connection, let’s first find out what’s happening at Aitne. It might be nothing,” he said, although he knew his atypical optimism was hiding the fact that he didn’t really want to have to face such an ancient foe again.

“Indeed,” she said distantly. Suddenly snapping her eyes to his, Hecate said, “ _If_ it is what we fear, you’ll need the full power of the Underworld – and more – to put it back to rest.”

Hades shook his head and sighed, whispering a strangled, “Typhoeus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hades has to travel to Mt. Etna, eh? Wonder if he'll run into a certain spring goddess while there?


	13. Into the Volcano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone asserts her authority.
> 
> She also travels to Aitne and explores her powers - and other activities - with Hades.
> 
> ***chapter contains detailed heterosexual intercourse

Her morning tasks were no different that day, the only indication that something had transpired reflected in the mood of the nymphs and her mother. Actions which brought joy, such as picking fruit and tending to vegetable gardens, now only yielded tension. Demeter had made breakfast as she always did, but the happy smile she had as she and her daughter ate was not present. Strangely, Persephone did not feel the worry that preoccupied the others, only curiosity over Aitne’s warning and a distinct pull towards the volcano, as if it were her duty to seek it.

Demeter, perhaps sensing her daughter’s mood, thoughtfully chewed her last bite of barley bread before saying, “I’d like you to stay close to the nymphs today, Kore.”

Persephone huffed internally, aware that her mother couldn’t even be bothered to make eye contact when making such a command. She knew better, however, than to outwardly rebel against her mother in this matter. No, Persephone would handle the nymphs herself, disgusted that at her age she had to even consider such subterfuge.

“All right, Demeter. I’ll see what help I can provide them today. The sirocco blew away some of the flowers in the clearing. Maybe I’ll bring them back.” It was a simple task, nothing more than a flick of the wrist.

The harvest goddess didn’t even bother to acknowledge that Persephone was still calling her by her given name. “Yes, sweetie,” she responded, her voice distant and her eyes staring off into nothing, “that sounds lovely.” The spring goddess wondered what memory consumed her mother and could only conclude that it was related to the events of early morning. Wordlessly, she stood up and moved to leave their house only to stop and turn around. “I have to travel to Olympus today, my daughter. Please stay close to the house,” was all she said.

Persephone shook her head but said nothing. She was definitely going to Aitne as soon as she could. She waited a few minutes, taking her time to finish breakfast, before she walked outside, looking for any sign that her mother had not yet left. Confident that she was on her own, she turned and began to walk towards her destination. It was a long trek from Enna, but as a goddess, travel over land could be swift. She was young for an immortal, however, so her powers would only take her so far, which is why she required Hermes to take her to Olympus swiftly. A hand on her shoulder stopped her. Sighing internally, she turned to face a nymph.

“My lady, where do you travel? May I join?” the nymph asked anxiously.

“No, I am going alone. Stay here,” Persephone said, somewhat flatly.

Looking uncomfortable, the nymph replied, “But your mother has – ”

Other nymphs had begun to gather. Persephone interrupted her with a wave of her hand. The urgency to travel to the volcano was great and her patience was thin. “I do not need to hear my mother’s words again. Stay here. I am going alone.”

Persephone turned around and began to leave again when another nymph called out, “Your mother is going to be so unhappy when she finds out you’ve left!” The tone was sweet and light, causing the spring goddess to grit her teeth.

Persephone’s mouth set into a thin line and her brow dropped. Turning back, the spring goddess addressed the crowd, retorting, “It is not your place to tell the Queen of the Underworld where she can and cannot go.”

The disrespectful nymph replied, “But this isn’t the Underworld. Your mother has- ”

Persephone interrupted her, “I am _always_ the Queen of the Underworld and there is _nothing_ my mother can do to you that would surpass what the Underworld can mete out.” The nymphs gasped and looked at each other, horrified at the words coming out of Persephone’s mouth. Persephone continued to address the crowd but walked up to the disrespectful nymph as she said, “Let me be very clear. The only reason why I am here for six months is because my mother used the mortals as bargaining chips.” She took a few steps towards the volcano and called out over her shoulder, “Stay and think carefully on what loyalties will serve you best.”

Less than an hour later, she arrived at the base of the volcano. Persephone felt her heart beating hard in her chest and her skin prickled; it was the exertion from traveling, she told herself. The draw of the volcano, to peer inside, was so strong that the young goddess didn’t give herself an opportunity to rest. She couldn’t rest, not with this fear in her stomach.

As she ascended the air cooled and gray clouds gathered, ominously dark at the peak. She was grateful for the cold air against her skin, but when she landed on the gravelly mountaintop, the ground was warm and any lingering snow was mostly melted. Stalking around, Persephone looked for any clue, a sign for what stirred below. In all of her decades on Sicily, her trips to Aitne were very limited, always at the base of the volcano, and guarded closely by the nymphs or her mother. It was a place of unpredictable danger, her mother warned, where Hephaestus forged his automatons. Upon inspection, there was no forge there, Persephone noted, somewhat bitterly; it was nothing more than a story – no, a lie – a parent told their children to scare them away from complicated situations. There _was_ something in Aitne and her powers were probing, trying to figure out what, but it felt like she was adrift on a dark sea at night without an oar. She couldn’t see anything or direct her powers. It was too new to her…

Then she felt it. Eyes watching her in the darkness and the sound of thousands – nay, millions – of voices speaking at once, an incoherent cacophony underlined by the raw grief of the dead. Persephone belatedly realized this must be an extension of her Underworld powers. With a gasp she broke the bond and stepped back, looking around, but the misty clouds limited her sight. Sighing, she turned around, ready to leave back for Enna, when something caught her peripheral vision. Turning her head, she saw a large dark form in the near distance, the clouds swirling around him and although Persephone could not make out his face, she knew without doubt that the man before her was Hades.

**************

After he left Hecate’s place, Hades summoned his bident and helm of invisibility. Yes, he was worried about the volcano, but also wondered if he would see Persephone. He longed to hold her again, longed to speak with her. He knew she must have felt Aitne rumble, but he wondered if she could feel its importance, of what was held beneath it. Certainly, Demeter knew, as one of the children of Kronos and all the misery that came with their position. Undoubtedly, she was already traveling to Olympus to alert Zeus and the other Olympians. He smiled wryly, knowing that previously, before he met Persephone, Demeter would have come to him directly to sort this out. Volcanos were, after all, violent portals to the Underworld.

When he arrived, he noted the warmth of the ground near the crater and that any remnants of snow that would fall in spring were mostly gone. Standing at the edge, he peered in, but didn’t see the liquid fire which seeped from the Underworld into the mortal world during eruptions. He removed his helm and tapped the end of his bident on the ground, letting the contact flow through. Hades could see past the darkness of the empty magma chamber down into the hot ground below, even further down. Typhoeus. Monster of monsters. How many centuries had passed since he wreaked havoc upon the mortal plains? Long enough that the mortals remembered the story but forgot the fear.

The great serpent-man, ten times the size of the Titans, as Hades remembered, thrived on chaos, seemingly knowing nothing of higher thinking. This stood against how all – every single – creature lived in this existence. Dogs serve their human-owners; cats keep pests from the harvest; and horses carry humans through life. Even the simplest fish understood that they must live within their means, feeding and reproducing in time. Typhoeus sought to destroy this balance. Hades shivered to think of the long battle, of how injured they had been already from their years-long war with the Titans, of how they almost all perished save for a lucky strike from Zeus’s lightning. Luck, oh how Hades hated it. That split-second moment of good fortune caused him centuries of grief contemplating the near-alternatives. 

He released his bident, relieved to see that the monster below still slept, although he wondered how long they would have. Was it just restlessness or a true awakening? And if so, who would or could awaken such a beast? He examined the perimeter of the crater, looking for any sort of clue that foul play was afoot.

Hades lingered a bit, dissatisfied with the lack of evidence. He also was somewhat disappointed that Persephone had not shown up, but perhaps he was foolish to think she would have that Underworld connection yet. She needed time, he soothed himself. She was queen in name, but had yet to become the true queen, he reasoned, though part of him had hoped that the bond they shared went deeper than just attraction on his part, and curiosity on hers. That familiar ache grew in his chest and he resolved that he would travel to Enna to find her. Hades _needed_ to see her, if only to embrace her briefly.

While he lingered, behind him he felt the warmth of energy growing; an immortal was ascending Aitne and he was torn between hope that it was Persephone and irritation for it to be anyone else. Quickly he replaced his helm and he dropped out of sight just before a disturbance emerged in the gray clouds in the short distance ahead.

Hades held his breath. Persephone! She was radiant, light glowing off of her skin and emanating from her eyes. He watched, excited to observe how she approached the volcano, to see how she used her new powers. She landed on the gravelly soil and crouched down to touch the warmth. The light disappeared from her eyes and skin as she assumed her more human appearance, looking around the crater curiously. Hades watched her peer in and felt her powers snake out again, probing around for an answer.

He was enraptured and aroused by her use of her new Underworld powers. Yes, it was inefficient and wild, but it was more than he could have expected from her. Hades thought she might be drawn to the volcanic energy and may look around, but to send feelers out, to expose herself to the Underworld was strong indeed and he was unsurprised when she gasped and stumbled back.

Removing his helm and placing it under his muscular arm and holding the bident in the other, he waited for her to see him. She turned around and then paused, turning back to face him.

“Hades,” she said, her voice low, a combination of seduction and relief. It warmed his blood to hear his name on her lips, oh if it only were his given name, Aidoneus. He tried to calm himself.

Resisting the urge to run to her and crush her body into his, Hades said, “I am impressed by your powers, my queen.”

Persephone tilted her chin up defiantly, but the smile on her face betrayed her emotions, “So you did not expect me, eh?”

He wanted her right then and there. “I expected nothing, but had hoped you might sense the power of the Underworld seeping out and be drawn to it.” He walked towards her and then he was standing next to her, looking back down into the crater.

Though the mountain was chilly, Persephone could feel the heat emanating from her skin. She looked down and then back over at Hades next to her, taking in his strong features for a moment before saying, “Well, I saw nothing but darkness, but I felt and heard much.” There was a slight edge to her voice, as if she were disappointed in herself.

He looked down at her tenderly and said, “You simply need a means to channel your powers.” He moved to stand behind her and she looked curiously over her shoulder. He tossed the helm behind him a little bit and then placed his free hand on her shoulder. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “Do you trust me?”

Persephone thought she did, but when he asked her, the words loomed large, reminding her of how new all of this was. This was the god that had grabbed her roughly from her fields, had tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, his muscular arm a vice grip around her waist. This was also the god she had been most intimate with just a few days ago. And as she stood there, she was reminded of her own fantasy just last night where he stood behind her, touching her and whispering into her ear. Nodding her head, Persephone replied, breathless, “Yes, of course.”

“Here, take my bident,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice and the light graze of his lips on the shell of her ear.

Inhaling a tremulous breath, Persephone looked to his other arm, and reached for the bident. Once she had it firmly in her grip, he removed his hand and placed it over hers gently squeezing it. Immediately her vision was tunneling down into the volcano, coursing through the hot liquid earth deep beneath the surface and further down even to where a gigantic creature lay, motionless. Dead? Asleep? She could wish for one, but knew the other was truth, it was the fear that had pulled her here this morning and the same reason Hades was here.

The voices of the dead began again, but it was easier to drown them out somehow. The blackness, which had draped over her mind’s eye like a funeral shroud, stayed to the periphery. She knew, deep inside, that Hades was with her, even if they didn’t speak. They had moved beyond the need for words, communicating at the thought level. Persephone felt fear when she gazed up Typhoeus, a monster so large that she only gained glimpses of his form, and she knew that fear was not her own, but that of Hades. She felt the weariness from ancient wars she never fought settle into her consciousness. She also felt his recent hope, the answer why so very obvious to her. She didn’t have to wonder if he felt her desires. They were becoming as one, if only temporarily. It was the closest she had ever been with another being.

Then it was over. During the brief moment, she had leaned her head back against his chest and his hand had traveled down from her shoulder to her abdomen. She exhaled a shaky breath and could only manage to say, “Oh.”

His lips were planted against her ear still. He asked, the smile still on his lips, “Oh?” His gigantic fingers pressed into her lower abdomen, sending warmth through her limbs. “You were magnificent, so strong.”

His whispered praises washed a fresh wave of arousal over Persephone, who leaned into him more, feeling his firm erection against the small of her back. She wanted him, wanted to feel his flesh in her. If their consciousness had been as one, then she needed their bodies to be too. She turned around in his arms and looked up at him into his dark eyes hardened with desire.

“Make love to me now,” she commanded.

Nodding his head, he grasped her hand and led them away from the mouth of the volcano, setting his bident down next to his helm. The ground was warm, but he still cast off his himation, using it as a makeshift blanket. As he removed his chiton Persephone set about removing her girdle, casting it to the side. Impatient to feel his eyes upon her naked form, she wasted no time in removing her shoulder clasps and tossing them away too. Her peplos fell away to her ankles and, without looking up, she could feel the heat of Hades eyes traveling down her body. Persephone met his appreciative stare as she stepped out of the gown and towards him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a passionate kiss.

Their lips pushed hard against each other, tongues swirling and little moans escaping their mouths. Hades placed his hands on her waist and pulled her tightly to him, thrusting his pelvis, before sliding his hands down to her ass and hoisting her up. Their lips parted, but they said nothing, desire having moved them past the need for words, and Persephone wrapped her legs around him, feeling his cock grind against her lower lips. He burrowed his head into her neck, kissing and licking the soft flesh there even as his hardened cock slid against her entrance but never penetrating.

Persephone moaned and threw her head back, finally finding words. “Hades, stop teasing me.”

He turned around and laid her down on his himation very gently, kneeling between her spread legs. Panting, he placed a hand on either side of her face and lowered his face to hers, saying, “Aidoneus.”

Tearing her eyes from his lips, Persephone asked, “What?”

“My given name is Aidoneus,” he said.

The vulnerability in his eyes intensified the intimacy of the moment and Persephone resisted the urge to shed tears at the sheer beauty of the god in front of her. Gulping, the spring goddess murmured, “Aidoneus, don’t keep me waiting.”

Electric shocks of arousal coursed through his body. The great lord of the Underworld felt himself completely under her control, unable to resist her sweet commands. Nodding, he grasped his cock and moved the tip to her entrance, relishing the feeling of her wet cunt teasing his head. Persephone ran her hands through his wavy black hair, scraping her nails along his scalp, eliciting a moan from him. He gazed upon her beautiful flushed face and wanted to ask her if this was her first time, but he already had a feeling the answer was yes. Instead, Hades simply said, “Tell me if you want me to stop – if…if it hurts too much.”

Her heavy-lidded eyes betrayed no fear, only a deep desire to be as one. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Hades lowered his lips to her, capturing her mouth in a soft kiss as he thrust into her. They parted to moan against each other’s lips before pressing their foreheads together. After several seconds, he began to move his hips back and forth, in and out causing Persephone to whimper and dig the back of her head into the ground as she arched her body up against his own.

Persephone ran her hands down his back, scraping her nails along his shoulder blades which made the muscles there twitch; her hands continued this path until she reached his firm ass, which she kneaded in time with his thrusts. He reveled in her touch, couldn’t get enough of it. He lowered his head to her breast and captured a nipple in his mouth, moaning as he ran his tongue over the hardened peak. Indeterminate time passed like this, their bodies thrusting against each other as their hands and mouths roamed their bodies, learning every sensitive spot.

He felt himself beginning to get close and he slowed down to prolong their pleasure. Hades desired nothing more than to feel the release of his orgasm, but he would not cum before his beautiful wife. Rolling them over suddenly, Persephone let out a surprised squeak before finding herself astride the king, a knee on either side of his hips, a powerful position indeed. Hades helped her find the rhythm and then his right hand was traveling towards her sensitive nub, his thumb stroking against it in time with her rhythm.

Faster and harder was all she knew; the feeling of Hades’s cock filling Persephone was amplified by her frantic thrusting. Then her pace faltered as she felt herself cross the barrier gasping a couple of short breaths before throwing her head back and crying out into the sky. Hades let himself go then, the feeling of her pulsating cunt overwhelming him. He folded his arms around her body and crushed her to him as he buried his face in her shoulder to cry out and then shudder as his orgasm took all of his strength.

Lifting her head up, Persephone smiled weakly at him and simply said, “Oh Aidoneus.” He kissed her, softly and gently, loosening his grip around her waist.

It was just them. Everything else could wait a little while longer.


	14. Gray Mist Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone and Hades discuss the past and future.
> 
> Ares is unsettled about the coming war with the Persians.
> 
> Hermes makes a bad, bad, so so bad decision.

Persephone smiled as she woke up, her head resting on the gently rising and falling broad chest of Hades. She didn’t feel any different – other than relaxed. Did she love him? A small voice in the back of her head screamed yes, this was love, the deep satisfaction she felt would not allow her to deny it. But the young goddess realized how easy it would be for her to get caught up too quickly. In her many decades – she approached one hundred soon – she had witnessed how mortal husbands treated their wives. She knew, too, the stories that her mother told her of the wild ways of the gods, chief amongst them her own father, Zeus. Cruel. Philandering. Persephone didn’t doubt that, though she hadn’t witnessed it herself. Poseidon was no better, she had learned, from Artemis and Hermes. And who could forget her other suitors – Ares and Apollo – rough, arrogant, uncouth. The only god who had treated Persephone well her entire life had been Hermes, and he was her brother. But Hades…

_Aidoneus._ His name alone made her shiver with excitement. Strong and powerful, but kind to her, willing to share his realm with her. It seemed too good to be true. Even her own mother, as powerful as any god save Zeus, did not treat her with the equality she had craved. And in her brief trip to Olympus, Persephone had observed how the King of the gods took counsel only with Athena, his eldest child, birthed directly from his own body. Persephone was young and knew so little of the world; what hope could she have that the words of her husband were anything but the hollow promises of lust? Oh, but she craved it.

He stirred and stretched his arms before letting one drop back down to her back where he lightly traced his fingers up and down. Persephone lifted her head and smiled at him, which he returned happily. “How do you feel?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Relaxed. Happy.” She cocked her head and asked, “Am I supposed to feel any different?”

He shrugged and said, “I don’t know. For me, it didn’t really change anything, but –” Hades stopped himself from saying, _but I never loved anyone before._ It was too soon for that.

“But?” she asked, half-flirtatiously, half-apprehensive.

“But…it’s been a long time for me.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little. Afterwards, he sat up, pulling Persephone with him so that he cradled her in his arms, a hand coming up to stroke her face, “My only regret is that we don’t have more time. It’s going to be hard seeing you once a month half of the year.”

Sighing pleasantly under his touch, the young goddess nodded her head and said, “We’ll just have to make the most of our visits.” She didn’t want to think about the loneliness of the nights right then, not after sharing such joy with another. Hating protracted good-byes and fearful that her mother might return soon, Persephone stood up and said, “I suppose I should return before my warden arrives home.” She extended her hand to him.

Hades snorted a laugh and took her hand, pulling himself up easily. “Perhaps I can sneak into your prison once a week?” he asked as he pulled on his chiton.

Pulling up her peplos, she nodded and said, “Aye, I might be able to make that happen. I just have to work on the nymphs a little more. I had to make vague threats of Underworld power to leave Enna unattended this morning.”

Hades chuckled as he dusted off his himation and put it back on, saying, “It’ll be that way for a bit. You’ll have to fight for respect from those you know. It will be hard for them to accept your change.” Hard for them to accept who she was always meant to be, he continued the thought.

Dressed, they stared at each other for several seconds, committing to memory the moment. Then, Hades stepped forward and grasped her hands, kissing the knuckles on each one. “Until Olympus, my queen.”

Persephone said, “Until then,” and then launched herself into his arms and pressed her lips to his. He returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her body tightly. When they parted, Hades felt an ache in his chest. When he held her, it was like he was holding all of the comfort of the universe in one being, and when he let her go, the stabbing pangs of loneliness crept back.

Persephone turned and began to walk back down the mountain when a fresh wave of energy washed over her. She stumbled a bit and fell to her hands and knees, her vision clouded with Hades’s memories of the war with the Titans. The spring goddess wondered if the memories would continue to haunt her so violently and feared that she might not be able to control it.

And then his large hands were on her, helping her to her feet and steadying her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, edged with concern.

Persephone nodded her head a little, then asked suddenly, “What happened with Typhoeus? I saw your memories, felt your…emotions, but I don’t really understand it.”

Hades blanched a little and stepped back a moment, pushing the horrific memories out of his head and the disgust he felt towards Demeter for keeping his wife so ignorant. “Typhoeus, son of the Gaia, was the bringer of chaos, death, and destruction.”

Persephone snorted and said, “Bringer of death – I guess I’ve inherited that title now.”

Hades arched a brow and said, “It’s hard to explain the seriousness of those times. There aren’t sufficient words to describe that our existence nearly ended and it all came down to a lucky bolt of lightning from Zeus. If Typhoeus had won, we wouldn’t be here now. And if he wakes up, I’m not sure we’ll be able to defeat him again.”

Persephone wrinkled her brow and asked, “Why do you doubt our strength?”

“Because if Tartarus can’t hold him, where else can we put him?”

**************

Ares had felt the rumbling, but it didn’t stop him from his morning tasks. Vaguely he registered that it was something important, but he hadn’t been alive during the battles with the Titans and Gaia’s other monstrous children. As the god of passionate warfare, however, he was attuned to the tension such negative energy brought. Normally, he would run to that, embrace whatever violence may happen.

But the Persians were closing in. And Athena finally showed up – yesterday.

So instead he continued watching the soldiers train, his sharp eyes watching for any sign of weakness. Athena was meeting with the generals to discuss strategy, but he already knew that the battle would reach Athenian soil eventually. The Persians were making their way up the Aegean, having taking the Cyclades with little effort most recently. Their armies were vast and their naval power superior, but Athenian citizen-soldiers were fierce and well trained, Ares thought with no small amount of pride.

At midday the soldiers broke for a meal and Ares realized that he was ignoring his duty by not conversing with Athena. Although they agreed on little, both as gods and siblings, it was their duty to work together in matters of war. He was already the most disfavored son of Zeus; ignoring his godly duties would not help. Reluctantly, he left for the Acropolis.

In the background, Halhirrothios watched the powerful god of war evaporate into the mist. He wondered why Ares would let Alcippe accompany him to the training grounds previously. What was his interest in her? The young Athenian handed his spear and shield to his attendant and skulked off, trying to determine if the god of war would be a potential threat. Halhirrothios was the son of Poseidon, after all, and had assumed that his offer of marriage would be accepted without question, once he’d extended it. Now all he felt was uncertainty, and that made him angry.

**************

Hermes had left the Underworld directly after his conversation with Thanatos. He was too upset by his friend’s warning to bring any action to fruition, instead choosing to delay and think upon his options. What did he hope to achieve by speaking with Minthe? Discover if Hades was still secretly visiting her? Understand what sort of character she possessed? He felt that knowing her would help him understand if could bring she and Hades back together. After all, were Hades to break his vows to Persephone, would not Hermes be the shoulder upon which she cried? Would he not be a suitable lover to ease her sorrow?

He should be disgusted. He _was_ disgusted with himself and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Ever since Hades had ripped her from the mortal realm, not a day had passed that he hadn’t kicked himself for not trying to win her over sooner. He had tried taking other lovers to soothe his wounded heart, but it only amplified his pain. Hermes felt, deep in his essence, that he was very broken and would never heal.

That was how he ended up on the banks of the Cocytus. No one heard it right away, the roar of the icy water rushing past overwhelming other sounds, but eventually it crept up: the wailing of the grief-stricken dead, those who died without burial rites. The shades roamed the banks, oblivious to those around them, be it god or spirit.

He summoned his lyre and began to pluck the strings. It was not as artful as Apollo’s playing, which is why he gave him the instrument as a gift many years ago in the first place, but it was far more melodic than the constant wailing of the surrounding shades. Hermes continued to play softly, on and off, as he wondered up and down the banks.

The river was long and he was unsure if the nymphs would even care for his playing, which is why he turned to leave the banks, dejected but undeterred. It was then that he heard a voice, soft and silky, calling out to him, “Such lovely playing. Are you done so soon, messenger god?”

Hermes felt the air rush out of his lungs and as soon as he heard her voice, he felt as though he _might_ have made a terrible mistake such was the dread that washed over him. Nevertheless, he turned around and said, “Fair nymph, did you enjoy my songs? I have been told I lack the musical talent of my brother, Apollo.” It was the first time he saw her and he was glad that he had uttered the phrase ‘fair nymph’ before setting eyes upon her, for he found her appearance to be…unsettling. She was not unattractive, but looked far less like a god, or even a mortal, than most other naiads. She was not very tall and her frame was wispy, but that was not what Hermes noticed. It was her abnormally large eyes, larger than any he had seen before in her type. And they were so pale, the palest green he had ever seen which contrasted with her long, straight, platinum hair.

She laughed and the sound was pleasant on the outside although he found it grating the longer he heard it. “My sisters and I do not get many visitors here.”

Hermes looked over her shoulder to the river and said, “I do not see your sisters. Pardon, I do not know your name.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and arched a white eyebrow. “Hmm…Hermes comes to the Cocytus with no business and begins playing his little instrument there. Am I to suppose that he was not sent by Hades to fetch me?”

Hermes couldn’t stop himself from laughing at her audacious assumption which earned him a sour look. Shaking his head, he replied, “I came of my own accord. Hades – nor any other being – sent me.”

She dropped a hand to her hip and said, “Well, then, why do you look for me?”

Hermes told himself to extricate himself from this situation, back away and leave before the damage was done. “Uh…I need to leave urgently,” he said, backing up and turning away.

“Wait!” she commanded and Hermes cursed himself for listening to her. He turned his head back to look at her, reluctant to fully face her. She smiled, and he thought it was either her attempt to be seductive or reassuring; he wasn’t sure because he was terrified. “I know you’ve come for a reason even if you will not tell me. I have been waiting for years to hear of Hades. Can you at least tell me how he is?”

Too uncomfortable to properly parse out her tone, Hermes gulped and said, “Lord Hades treats me the same as he always did.”

She stepped forward a bit and laughed a little, “And…his _wife_?”

Hermes took a step back instinctively. He wondered if this conversation would make its way beyond these shores to Hades, Hecate, or his friends the twins. Belatedly he cursed himself for his one-track mind. “She resides above ground for these six months.”

Nodding her head, she stepped forward again, asking, “And does he speak of her? Does he…love her?”

In his heart he suspected that the lord of the dead loved the goddess of spring, but he had never heard any declarations per se. “Hades does not share his heart with me.”

“I know of you, even if you do not know of me. I remember you from when I was once set to be queen,” she said firmly. “And now you have sought me out. Why? How do you know of me?” Minthe grabbed his arm, wrapping her long webbed fingers around it and squeezing ever so slightly.

Hermes could break free from her grip easily and flit off, putting this burgeoning nightmare behind him, but, much like watching a disaster unfold, he was unable to stop himself. He was both observer and participant, watching himself say the words without really comprehending. “You came up in conversation.”

“With. Whom?” she asked, punctuating each word. The nymph did not even try to mask her feelings.

“Aphrodite,” Hermes said, defeated.

“I see,” she said and released Hermes’s arm, pleased to see that he did not run away. “So if you’ve met with the goddess of love and have discussed _me_ , then I am going to make my own assumption.” She smiled again, predatorily. “You’re in love with his wife.” Impulsively, she grabbed his lyre and plucked a few sour notes, laughing as he cringed.

Hermes gulped.

“May I have my lyre back?” he asked, extending a hand.

Turning, she hurled it into the icy river, eliciting a gasp from him. Facing him again, she continued, “And you had some scheme. A plan to drive her away from Hades.” She rested her arms across her chest, arrogance radiating off of her body.

Hearing the words tumbling out of her mouth made Hermes feel like he was dying inside. No, no, no, it was all wrong. He was wrong. This was wrong. He had to leave. Without another word, he turned and left her and was sickened to realize that she didn’t bother to call after him. Of course not, he chided himself – Minthe had gotten everything she wanted out of him. Perhaps she would do nothing, he soothed himself. What could she do, after all?


	15. Sliding Down the Hill of Motivations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone has a conversation - and lunch - with those troublesome nymphs.
> 
> Hades meets with Hecate to figure out who would try to raise Typhoeus.

_There was only darkness at first. It was not unlike existing eternally within Nyx, or perhaps one step shy of returning to Chaos. She laid there – or floated – and the only sense of time was measured by the growing life within her womb. Cast into this prison, she was numb, so very numb for so long, months perhaps._

_Then the other emotions descended upon her: sadness, betrayal, anger, despair. If she lingered on those, she surely knew she would lose her identity and become nothing more than an appendage of the being in which she rested. But she couldn’t let herself go, as tempting as it was; her swollen belly was a constant reminder of the false hope she would have to muster if she were to bring this life into existence._

_And so she used her vast strength to create a world within this dark reality. She closed her eyes and imagined the world she had lived in, but only the beautiful parts. Upon opening her eyes there stood before her a lush landscape of trees and flowers, fauna, and a babbling brook with craggy mountains rising in the horizon. It was beautiful and if she didn’t let herself dwell on the fact that it wasn’t real, she could almost convince herself it was home._

_It_ was _her new home, for however long she could manage. At the very least, she told herself, it would be long enough for her child to be born. Sighing she rested a hand on her stomach and eased herself down onto the grass. It wouldn’t be long now, she knew._

**************

Persephone glided down the mountainside and, despite the great threat of Typhoeus, she could not help but feel elated and relaxed. Never in her fantasies could she have imagined how it would feel to be that close to another. Not even the romantic evening they had spent on Olympus compared to actually being as one, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Her lower abdomen may be sore and her inner thighs slightly sticky still and she could feel his seed slowly leaking out of her, but it was all very welcome. This was the experience her mother had sought to deny her, the experience she had warned would ruin her, make her second to whatever male claimed her. 

_Claimed._ As if she were an object to be owned. Whom had claimed who? She had chosen to eat the pomegranate seeds; she had asked him to share a bed on Olympus; and she had asked him to make love to her on Aitne. How were her mother’s actions – locking her in a gilded cage – not an act of objectification? Was she a trinket to lock in a treasure chest and occasionally retrieve? Demeter wanted her in Enna under the watchful eyes of the nymph-wardens while she flitted off around her realm to finish her duties. Oh, sure she would always be back in the evening and she would make breakfast for them every morning, but it was all very mechanical. How could Demeter love her when she refused to take an interest in her life, in her hopes and dreams? A part of Persephone wondered if Demeter’s great tantrum was more to poke and prod at Zeus, whom she despised, rather than to save her daughter from any grave threat.

Scowling, Persephone realized that her joyful mood had been dampened by these thoughts, which grew in intensity as she approached her home. The nymphs would be waiting for her and possibly even Hermes, though she had hoped for some reprieve from him today. Ever since he had taken her home from Olympus, the young goddess couldn’t help but wonder if Hades was right but she didn’t have the emotional energy to expel on that, not wanting to ruin her mood further.

Landing in the clearing near her mother’s house, she quietly mulled about, looking for any sign that her mother had returned. Instead, she found the nymphs gathered around the outdoor oven, preparing food for midday meal. They had been laughing, but stopped when they saw her, pressing their lips into a thin line and returning to their cooking. Persephone had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

Walking up to them, she asked, “What are you making?” She recognized the nymphs as the two from earlier.

The disrespectful nymph said, “I am making cabbage and bean stew. Arethusa over there is making a honeyed cheese cake.” Her voice was flat.

“And has my mother been by since I’ve left?” Persephone asked, unperturbed by the nymphs’ cold shoulders.

“No.”

Persephone placed her hands on her hips and looked around, searching for the right words. Did she even know what she wanted to say to them? Had she been too harsh? The thought of apologizing for asserting her independence made her bite her tongue; she would utter no such words. Instead she asked, “Do you need help?”

“We do not,” the nymph said, never turning her head from the stew she was simmering.

Persephone sighed and said, “I don’t even know who either of you are. I am assuming you came from outside the island?”

Arethusa nervously looked over her shoulder at the goddess and said, “Aye, my queen, I am lately from Eleia.”

Persephone nodded her head and replied, “That is a far way off.” Turning her head to the other, she asked, “And you?” 

The nymph cooking the stew turned around and said, “I am Nomia, from Sicily, though not this area, further south.”

Persephone shrugged and asked, “How long have you been here?” She turned back to have a seat under a tree.

Nomia began to dish out stew in small bowls. “I came recently, but Arethusa has been hiding out in the nearby woods for months.” The way she spoke made Persephone wonder if this nymph was always sour. Turning, she handed a bowl to Persephone and then one to the other nymph before serving herself and sitting down across from the goddess. Nervously, Arethusa looked around and then plopped down next to Nomia.

Persephone arched an eyebrow and asked, “Hiding? Why?”

Arethusa set her bowl down and clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. “I am a huntress and devoted follower to Artemis in all things…I-I I was brought here by she after…well, she saved me and brought me here because she knew that your mother is a protector of our kind.”

Persephone nodded and tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. She brought a spoonful of stew to her mouth and slurped the hot broth thoughtfully. “I assume you came for similar reasons, Nomia?”

“Well…I can say that I’ve learned the hard way that men are fickle beasts who do not deserve the lofty praise they write of themselves.” She took a spoonful of stew and angrily swallowed it, continuing, “A mortal man can betray a mortal woman without punishment. I _dare_ any mortal man to betray a nymph without suffering for it.”

Persephone could feel the anger radiating off of Nomia, but only nodded at the response. She was a little curious to hear their stories, but recognized that they were not ready to trust her. For some reason, that thought bothered her; what is a Queen without trust? A tyrant. After a few minutes of silent eating, the goddess said, “Well I am glad that my mother was able to help you.”

Arethusa’s face lit up and said, “Oh yes, my lady, she is wonderful. And though she is not around all the time, I know that I am safest here. And now I have so many sisters that I am never alone.”

Nomia was silent and Persephone observed that the sourness on her face had softened a bit, even if it didn’t go away completely. She decided then that in these months she would work hard to understand the nymphs around her. For a long time, perhaps too long, she had walled herself off from them, resentful of the power her mother gave them over her. Persephone would have to change tactics if she were to truly gain their trust and support.

**************

_Aidoneus_. He heard her voice saying his name and he sighed pleasantly to himself as he arrived back in the Underworld, guided there subconsciously as his consciousness parsed the events of the morning. How he regretted having to leave her, but the gift of this morning was joyous enough to reduce his regret – and his other naturally negative feelings – to the back of his mind. Lovemaking had never been so intimate for him before despite how hard he had searched for it centuries past. After the disaster of Minthe, he had all but given up on finding a partner.

All he could think of now, though, was how much she had enjoyed his touch, the way she had looked at him with longing, and the way she had made love to him. Persephone made Hades feel as if he were physically attractive and emotionally valued, wants he hadn’t given voice to before for fear the pain of rejection would be too great a burden to bear. Now he was almost certain that time would lead them to love. No one, least of all himself, could have ever imagined that the god of the dead would be loved and now the reality of it was dawning on the horizon.

Finally able to thread coherent thoughts together, Hades realized two things: one, Persephone would need a physical conduit for her powers and two, he would have to figure out what to do about Typhoeus. Fortunately, he knew the one person who could assist him with both and was unsurprised when his mindless wanderings had lead him to Hecate.

She was waiting outside when Hades arrived, the action somewhat alarming even if her face betrayed no concern. Opening the door, she bid him enter and followed afterwards, firmly closing and locking it, and making Hades feel slightly claustrophobic in the process. Tight spots weren’t his favorite as it was a reminder of his childhood prison, though this morning he had been sufficiently distracted by Typhoeus’s threat to ignore it. Now, standing, the ceiling of the hut hovering just above his head, he was overwhelmed by the closeness of it all.

Clearing his throat, he said, “You know, Hecate, you don’t have to stay in this hut. There is plenty of space in my palace – you could have your own wing!”

Hecate smirked a little and walked over to the small fire over which bubbled a pot of _something_. He wasn’t about to ask her for fear she might suggest he try it. Stirring it with a too-large wooden spoon, she replied, “My answer is the same as always, Hades. This is my home, where I feel most comfortable.” She turned around and sat down at the small table across from him, shrugging, “Besides, there are many crossroads for me to travel. I am as much a goddess of the mortal night as I am of the Underworld and my place here is only partial. But we’ve had this conversation many times before.” Leaning forward and folding her long, thin, decrepit fingers together, she asked, “And how did you find Typhoeus?”

“He sleeps,” Hades said, although his voice carried no relief. 

“But?” she asked, arching a brow.

“I don’t know for how long,” he said grimly. “And I didn’t find any clues either. We probed the volcano, inspected all around it. No energy traces outside of the Underworld. No remnants that any other immortal had been present recently. Nothing.”

Hecate nodded her head and pursed her lips for a moment before asking, “By we, you mean Persephone?”

“Ah – yes!” Hades exclaimed, surprised at himself for the slip up. He was usually so careful in his language, especially around his old friend. “On that topic, she will need a conduit, a tool, much as I have my bident. Something to help her channel her Underworld powers.”

Hecate smiled a little, pleased that the young goddess was adapting to her new role as a chthonic deity so quickly. “I already have some ideas…” she said, but didn’t elaborate. She hummed to herself and said, “Nothing on Aitne you say? That might be a clue in itself.”

Hades responded, “Hmm…you mean who is powerful and clever enough to effect change unnoticed? Indeed I cannot think of many. Zeus, perhaps, though there is no motive for that.”

“No,” she said, looking off to the side and staring into the distance, “Zeus likes displays of power. He might be able to waken Typhoeus, but he would want everyone to know he did it. And as you said, he has no motive. Someone who would do this would be upset. Resentful.”

“Well, Ares is, but he’s not powerful enough to raise a beast. He’s still too young. But Aphrodite is the oldest of us, the parthenogenic child of Ouranos. She _is_ a sister of sorts to Kronos. And she is known for going behind our backs.” His last sentence was punctuated with a tinge of bitterness and Hecate knew the reason why and knew better than address it directly.

Hecate rested her chin on her hand and stated, “Well, I won’t deny that she is far more powerful than she would have us think and Ares _is_ her lover. Perhaps she does it for him?”

“They are not together – at least not right now!”

“Well then, what would be her motive? She lives a grand life on Olympus doing as she pleases. She is no longer at the behest of the gods, having wrested her power back centuries ago. Do you think she means to topple Zeus and take his crown?”

Hades had to acknowledge the idea seemed ridiculous. He replied, hesitantly, “We can’t exclude the other Olympians. Hera has tried this before.”

“Yes, we’ll have to keep her in mind. Apollo and Artemis are too young,” Hecate continued.

“Indeed and they are, more or less, content with their lot. Apollo is much loved by Zeus.”

Hecate smirked a little when she responded, “But not more beloved than Hermes. Truly he is Zeus’s favorite son. And quite clever too, that boy.”

Hades’s face flushed and he said flatly, “Well, I never said my brother had taste.”

Laughing, Hecate continued, “And Athena is Zeus’s favorite child, bar none. And she’s powerful and clever, much like her mother was. Although I don’t know that she is powerful enough to waken Typhoeus.”

“And why would she? She is Zeus’s second in command, a natural leader, and beloved by the mortals. She has so much to lose.”

Hecate nodded and said, “That leaves Hephaestus, Hestia, Poseidon, and Demeter.”

Hades shook his head and said, “I think we can reasonably exclude Hephaestus and Hestia from this list, or at least put them at the bottom. They have a very narrow focus of power and, honestly, not terribly deceitful amongst us. Poseidon, I don’t think so. He was dragged into Hera’s opposition centuries ago much against his better judgment. I think he’s learnt his lesson. Besides, he loves his wild domain and his wife lets him pursue _certain_ activities without overt jealousy. I find it hard to believe he would want to bother. Demeter though…”

The crone nodded her head and said, “She’s hated Zeus since he abandoned her. She’s hated Poseidon for far longer. And now she hates you.”

Hades wrinkled his brow and said, “Wait, why does she hate Poseidon?”

The goddess of witchcraft cackled and said, “My friend you need to get out more. Why do you think Demeter slept with Zeus?”

The god of the dead sighed and shrugged, “I choose not to think about sexual motivations. They are a waste of time.”

Sitting back, she continued, “Zeus was her shoulder to cry upon after Poseidon raped her. He comforted her – as a brother might comfort a sister – and he spent a significant amount of time just being with her, escaping the misery of his own marriage. He punished Poseidon quietly, at Demeter’s request. He also brought Artemis, swearing her to secrecy, to help deliver Poseidon’s twins: Despoina and Arion. And then, when she was unable to bond with them, he carried her children away to Arcadia where they were raised by nymphs. For a time it seemed that Demeter had replaced Hera, or at least she had thought so once she and Zeus began an affair. But as Zeus was wont to do, he returned to Hera and left a very angry, very powerful, and very pregnant goddess of the harvest.”

Hades shook his head and said, “I wish I could say I was surprised, but my brothers are little more than beasts themselves. No wonder Demeter hates me so…ah well we must keep her high on the list. She is resourceful. She killed the harvest for her daughter, after all.”

Hecate felt it was time she conducted her own investigations. Standing up, she returned to her bubbling pot and said, “My stew is almost done. Would you care for a midday meal?”

Hades abruptly stood up, nearly knocking the chair over, and raised a hand, “No, no, dear Hecate, but thank you. I must return to the palace and attend my normal duties.”

Smirking at his retreating form, Hecate returned to her stew and ladled out a bowl. She had a long journey ahead of her this evening.

It was time she paid a visit to the _other_ goddess of witchcraft – Circe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two nymphs are taken from the myths: Nomia and Daphnis; Arethusa and Alpheus.
> 
> As always, your feedback is much welcomed. I hope that the story is keeping you entertained.
> 
> I can't wait to reveal more. :-)


	16. The Pale Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodite has a weird dream and an unexpected guest.
> 
> Hecate has a frustrating visit with Circe.
> 
> Although nothing explicit happens, there is a brief bit of disturbing sexual activity. If you wish to skip it, I've sectioned it off with ^ symbols.

Aphrodite laid there, naked on her couch, for several minutes, adjusting to consciousness and parsing through the fragments of her most recent dream. At times it seemed she was riding a giant lioness, other times the lioness ran alongside her. Her robes seemed to flow unnaturally as she glided across the ground and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw a bow with arrows and a bronze sickle-sword strapped to her back. Further behind her was a legion of men – chasing, no! following her. This was more than she had ever seen of this dream and it left her strangely sad.

The goddess of love could not deny her suspicions anymore, not when they came to her so often. The realization settled heavily within her, as if a great burden had been placed upon her shoulders. Aphrodite didn’t understand why she should feel so uneasy with the truth, yet she did. She supposed it was easier to believe that she were simply the goddess of love and had come into existence the moment Ouranos’s male parts entered the ocean. To think that she had been some other goddess before, something important somewhere else was a heavy realization. Why was she here? Was she as important now as it seemed she had been before? 

And still, Aphrodite did not know her former name.

Sitting up from her couch in her little alcove, the goddess looked around. Zeus’s palace was eerily silent. Most of the Olympians were away, leaving Zeus, Hera, Apollo, and Aphrodite the only souls in the sprawling estate. Most times there would be something going on at all hours, but lately it had been quiet and reserved. The Olympians mostly kept to themselves and while Aphrodite was content to not interact with them, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

The night was cool, cloudless, and very still, the moon casting her space in a gentle bluish-white light. She heaved herself up, despite her limbs feeling heavy, and walked to the balcony which overlooked her swan pond. Resting her arms on the stone wall, the moonlight made her pale skin glow and the coolness of the air caused her nipples to crinkle.

As her eyes came into focus, she saw movement at her pond: legs dangling into the water, the rest of the body obscured by a fountain. She pursed her lips and did not have to guess who it was since such creeping about was common for him. Looking down, Aphrodite picked up a sandal and smiled as she tossed it into the water, the resulting splash causing the figure to jump up and peek his head above the fountain.

Hermes. _Of course_. She knew it already.

He stood up on wobbly legs and stared at her for a moment, as if trying to register the situation. Aphrodite figured he’d been asleep or drunk or likely both and decided to wait for him to make the next move. He turned his head and looked into the pond, trying to ascertain where the sandal had landed. He waded in up to his ankles and poked around before he looked back up at her and shrugged, a dopey half-smile crossing his face as it finally occurred to him that she was naked. Exiting the water, he shook his feet to dry out his winged sandals and then he was lifting himself up unsteadily, his balance off. 

Aphrodite admired his form. Certainly, by god – and mortal – standards, he was not tall, but he was lean if not mildly athletic, and carried with him a boyish look and charm that most adults found irritating. She thought that he represented everything she was not and for her the idea of him as an eventual lover was invigorating. Despite his numerous dalliances with nymphs and mortals, Hermes retained an innocence and sadness to his aura. And despite his attempts to masquerade this behind what he thought to be clever humor, Aphrodite could never be fooled.

Hermes clumsily dropped to his feet behind her, his sandals making a wet squeak as he landed. She turned around, smirking, resting her elbows on the balcony wall as the moonlight lit up her long strawberry blonde locks. “Hermes, what brings you to my pond at such a late hour?” He was hovering just inside the entrance to her alcove, facing her, shadows occluding his face and torso.

She cocked her head to the side and waited for his response. He mumbled something and when she didn’t respond, he repeated, more loudly, “I-I don’t know.”

Aphrodite thought he sounded less drunk than he looked. Wrinkling her delicate brow, she asked, “Care to tell me what troubles you?” Hermes paced a little, but his feet still weren’t very steady. The goddess of love was beginning to understand what might have caused his agitation but needed to hear the words from his lips himself.

Suddenly he asked, his voice agitated, “Was Hades here? With Persephone?”

No one had told Aphrodite as much, but as the goddess of love, she felt it all, every little shock of attraction between couples, especially those engaging in delightfully carnal acts under her nose. She nodded gently and said, “Yes.”

Hermes gulped and asked, “And do they love each other?” He continued to pace back and forth, waiting for the answer he knew already.

Quietly, she responded, “Their love is like the first whisper of light on the horizon, small and dim, but ever constant in its growth.”

The messenger god fell on his rump and sat sprawled out, unashamed of the sobs he let out.

Aphrodite walked over to him, fed up with his self-pitying at this point, and extended a hand. He looked up at her and then slowly slipped his hand into hers, the coolness of her skin – he thought – causing him to shiver a little. Standing, Aphrodite pulled him into her alcove, towards her couch. Somewhat impatiently, she gestured for him to lie down, which he did as hiccups jolted his body. Once he was in a comfortable position, he felt a wool blanket cover him and looked over his shoulder to see Aphrodite staring down at him, her gaze unreadable.

“Move over,” was all she said and he quickly scooted to the other side as she slid in next to him and under the covers. They stared at each other for a long while before she finally instructed him, “Now tell me what happened.”

Hermes looked away and took in a deep measured breath before saying on the exhale, “I found Minthe.”

A small, sad smile crept across her face as she realized why now he was so distraught. “Ah, I understand. She was not quite what you expected, eh?”

A disgusted look crossed his face and he replied, “No! Definitely not! She was terrible. I could not conceive of it, but every ounce of her oozes greed for power. She made no attempt to hide it from me.”

“She is desperate.”

Hermes pressed his lips together and averted his gaze for a moment to collect his thoughts before responding, “She guessed my situation. I fear for what she might do and _I_ don’t know what to do.”

“Minthe is very smart, but she is blinded by her own vices. I hate to upset you further, but now that you’ve removed the top from the snake’s basket, it will come out. You can’t make her forget. Even now she is coming up with a plan.”

Hermes shook his head and asked, “If what you say is true – if Hades loves Persephone – then I cannot understand how he could have ever loved Minthe.”

Aphrodite sighed and rolled away from Hermes onto her back. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. She came to my temple years ago, praying desperately and providing burnt offerings. She did this many times until I was compelled to understand why an Underworld river nymph required my attentions. Oh, she cried and those tears coming out of her large green eyes fooled me so well! She spoke about how her heart was broken for want of love, the love of Hades no less. I am unsure as to how she fooled my powers – perhaps she told herself the lie so much that she actually believed it as well. I can only guess.” Aphrodite _knew_ it was her own arrogance that caused the situation. Her desire to assert her power over such a strong and formidable immortal was more than she could resist. Make the god of the dead love and she would be victorious over the Underworld. How could she refuse the nymph?

Hermes looked over at her when the silence had grown uncomfortable. Aphrodite was staring straight at the ceiling, but her mind was far away. “I leant her my girdle. All who wear it –”

“Find the wearer irresistible. I am familiar with it even if I have not experienced it.”

At least not yet, Aphrodite thought to herself. “And of course lonely Hades was dazzled by her. It never felt right to me, but I didn’t question it. She shared his bed for a time until the lust had run out and no love had taken its place. Instead, Hades cast her from his bed.”

Hermes snorted, “What a mess. I don’t know what to do.”

Aphrodite shrugged and said, “I doubt there’s anything you can do short of removing Minthe from the Underworld. Certainly I will not involve myself in this again.” He shrugged and let out a ragged exhale. “Come now,” she said, “why don’t you try to sleep a bit, at least until dawn. We’ll have breakfast on my balcony and then you can go off delivering your messages.”

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes, sleep finally taking him over. They both knew he’d be gone in the morning, but Aphrodite also knew the care she took with him now would yield what she wanted later.

**************

She didn’t _have_ to do this at midnight, but she had traveled to the mortal realm in this fashion for so long, it was just her way now. Standing just in the mortal realm, surrounded by the blackness of the cave, Hecate took a moment to gain her senses. It had been awhile since she had traveled there and the shift, even through the Underworld’s oldest and most powerful gates, could be disorienting. 

Moonlight danced at the exit, once known as Sibyl’s cave, after the prophetess that once lived here. Now, it was nothing more than a place that mortals visited to pray or bury their dead. Gliding down trapezoidal passageway, she emerged into the still midnight air near the settlement the mortals called Cumae. For them, it was a two- or three-day trip north along the coast and across the water to the near-shore island of Aeaea. For Hecate, she would be there in an instant, her energy no worse for the trip.

Within minutes, she was at the foot of the mountain which dominated the island. It wasn’t populated by anyone other than Circe, a handful of her nymphs, and whatever men were unfortunate enough to fall into her trap. The nearby mortal settlements knew to avoid her island at all cost lest they be forever bound to it as some senseless creature. Hecate did not often dwell on Circe, a powerful goddess who squandered her gifts on parlor tricks that only served to bring fear into the hearts of those less powerful than she. Hecate could have wished for more for Circe, for a better place amongst the immortals other than reclusive witch. If only the goddess could have learned patience, she could have earned her place as a shadow ruler of the mortal realm, much as Hecate knew she was the indirect ruler of the Underworld.

This was why the crone was so puzzled, for there were few amongst them who could raise the beast that was Typhoeus and the list of those who could want to do it was even smaller. What motive would Circe have to rouse destruction? And if this were not the workings of her magic, then who else could break the binding spell?

Hecate felt it before she saw them in her peripheral, the watchful eyes of Circe’s nymphs. She slowed her ascent and waited. One of the nymphs stepped forward and asked, “What business have you, Hecate, with our mistress?”

Shaking her head, the crone responded, “It is a matter of our craft.” She said nothing more and the nymphs did not respond, simply staring at her as if watching for a clue that would help them make a decision. Behind them, the crickets stopped chirping but an owl hooted into the night sky. Realizing that they were powerless against Hecate, that the Titaness could go where she pleased, they stepped aside to let her pass. They did, however, follow the crone closely as she made her way up the mountain to Circe’s abode.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hecate heard it before she saw it and it made her stomach churn in disappointment for what she would find at the top. Moaning sounds cast softly into the night air gradually increasing in tempo until finally a protracted feminine cry broke alongside a non-human bellow. She hated to witness what was around the corner, but it was too late to stop. On her couch, Circe lay atop a mortal man, or what was once a mortal man. Her magic had turned him partially into one of the horrid beasts the mortals feared. From his shoulders down he appeared as a man, but his head was that of a bull, not unlike the minotaur. 

“I thought you favored turning men into pigs, Circe.”

The goddess raised her head from his chest and looked over at the titaness, unimpressed and shameless in her appearance. Misery emanated from her in waves that Hecate swore she could touch. “A pig is not such a great bedfellow, Hecate,” she stated and then laughed drunkenly. Leaning down, she picked up her goblet and sipped the last remnants of her old and stale red wine. It had been her main sustenance these last few months.

Hecate frowned at the goddess and said, “And is that how you address me now, Circe?”

She nuzzled her head into the chest of the man-bull mostly to antagonize the crone, and said, “I have not seen you these last five hundred years. What other name shall I call you but your given?” Her tone was pained and accusatory.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hecate nodded her head and said, “I came to see you. Can you dress for me and hold a sober conversation?” The crone looked over the bull-man, who seemed to exude fear. “And please return him to his natural state.” She bit back the lecture on proper use of her powers and turned to let the younger goddess dress herself.

Circe stumbled to her feet and said, “Do you travel to Olympus to lecture Zeus on the many ways he makes love to women? Would it be better were _I_ the animal?”

Hecate folded her arms across her chest and said, “A low bar if that is to whom you compare yourself.”

Circe laughed but there was no joy in it. “He is the king of the gods – what greater immortal exists? Do not let anyone hear you speak ill of him lest he condemn you to punishment eternal.” She pulled on her gauze cerulean robes and tied them at the waist sloppily.

Hecate was once again perplexed by Circe. She lived so far away from Olympus and rarely interacted with the other gods, especially Zeus. “Are you dressed?”

“Yes, yes, I am proper, Hecate.”

The crone turned around and said, “And yet you leave that mortal as a bull. I had thought after you helped Odysseus centuries ago that you might have changed, but I see that time has brought you back to your old ways.”

Shivering in frustration, Circe bent down and retrieved her wand, lifting it to the man’s bull head, immediately reverting him back to his human face. He promptly sat up and ran out of the room, not bothering to dress. Hecate turned to the nymphs who had remained quiet in the background and said, “Go, go, and see that he makes it back to the mainland.” Looking back at the younger goddess, Hecate shook her head and asked, “What have you been doing?”

Circe laughed, but said nothing. She shook her head and leaned back against a pillar, crossing her arms over her chest. Finally, she asked, “What brings you here? I would ask why at such a late hour, but I know your ways.”

Hecate cleared her throat before responding, “Like you said, it’s been hundreds of years since we’ve spoken. I wanted to check in with you to see how you were doing.”

Circe arched a dark eyebrow and responded, “How interesting that you would care to check in on me now. What made you remember me?”

“I’ve never forgotten you. You chose to make your home here, in the remote western world.”

Though the nymphs were gone, she had the distinct feeling they were being watched. And while she and Circe had stopped speaking centuries ago on poor terms – mostly due to the goddess’s lifestyle choices – Hecate had to acknowledge that Circe was being especially difficult.

“Yes, well, my particular brand of magic isn’t especially useful for the betterment of others. Revenge is what binds and revenge is what transforms.” There was a long pause and she concluded, somewhat solemnly, “It’s exhausting.” She snorted and continued, “And the only difference between revenge and justice are those writing the laws.”

Hecate shook her head and said, “If you think that is all you can do than certainly you have not ever listened to me. You seem miserable – why not do something about it?” 

Refusing to meet her gaze, Circe responded quietly, “I’ve listened to you. Can you say the same for me?” There was again another long pause before Circe finally snapped her head up and raised an arm, saying, “Whatever you’ve come for, Titaness, I assure you I can’t help. I know nothing of the outside world except what is fed to me through my rare visitors.”

Nodding her head, Hecate turned and left without uttering another word, but the prickling feeling that she was being watched persisted as she left the island and traveled back to Cumae. Only when she was back in the Underworld did she feel the magic of the mortal world fade away. She was convinced, more than ever, that Circe knew more than to what she alluded. She was also convinced that Circe was the only other one who could break the binding spells that had kept Typhoeus asleep. But Circe was just the means, a part of someone else’s plans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this out. I had the first section written a week ago, but really tried to set the mood for the second part, so it took me a little longer. 
> 
> I'm more than half way through the next chapter and am aiming to get it posted by Monday evening. 
> 
> Any theories on who the betrayer might be?
> 
> As always, I appreciate the time you take to read my story.


	17. Pride Preceding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcippe discovers that a most unwanted suitor is going to ask for her hand in marriage.
> 
> Persephone and Demeter have a conversation over breakfast.
> 
> There is an incident in the woods that reminds Persephone of her own abduction.

_She felt her strength waning, the effort to keep the idyllic illusion and the labor pains conflicting with each other. Every time she pushed, the illusion would flicker slightly reminding her of the reality of the oppressive darkness that surrounded her. With no sense of time, she knew not how long she struggled to birth her child alone, but it must have been hours for she felt herself very weak._

_With one last push, she knew it was over. Before she could reach down to lift her baby and see the gender and before she could tie off the umbilical cord and wait for the afterbirth, her eyes closed from exhaustion and the illusion flickered away, leaving the mother and baby hovering in darkness._

_When next she opened her eyes, she stared not into the face of her baby, but that of child with large, doe-like eyes that shimmered silvery-gray. She cried then and clutched her daughter to her. Slowly around them the illusion restored and the child looked around in silent wonder, a smile donning her face. The mother smiled – briefly – but then grasped her daughter by the shoulders and whispered, “There isn’t much time.” The daughter said nothing but reacted to the seriousness of her mother’s words with fear. “No, no! Here…” And then she raised her hands to her daughter’s head and said, “I will give you all that I have left – my memories, my wisdom – all yours!”_

_They closed their eyes for only a second, but it was enough for the goddess’s lifetime to pass to her child. When next she opened her eyes, her daughter stood before her a grown woman. The elder goddess smiled and said, “Now you must go, leave this place. You have the strength to do so.”_

_“Not without you, mother,” the young woman said urgently._

_Her mother knew that was not possible. The young goddess was certainly strong, but not strong enough to escape and bring her ailing mother with her. “No, I won’t be able to come with you. I’m sorry, my daughter. Leave. Go!”_

_Tears streamed down her face as she asked one last question, barely above a whisper, “What is my name?”_

**************

Alcippe did not have much time to herself, instead often forced to participate in activities she did not enjoy, such as weaving or cooking with her mother, skills considered necessary for all marriage-age Athenian women. Her own mother, Aglauros, was a reluctant teacher of these arts, having learned them only after her place in society had shifted so rapidly. Together they worked in silence and together they toiled to an end neither wanted. 

Aglauros was born into nobility and had been destined for a life of luxury until unrest in Athens had eroded the power of the nobles whilst elevating the voice of the citizens. Cleisthenes, architect of the new democracy, had overthrown the tyrant Isagoras and executed his followers – including her father. Fortunately, her younger brother, of the tender age of twelve at the time, had been spared and their wealth preserved allowing her to marry Megacles of the Alcmaeonid family and nephew of Cleisthenes. 

Megacles was, by Athenian standards, a very good husband. Wealthy in his own right and possessing the fortune of his wife’s dowry, he held as much power as Athenian democracy would allow. He also respected his family enough to keep his vices hidden – his penchant for expensive objects and women. But as marriages of convenience were oft, Aglauros did not love him. She was sure that in her entire life it was likely she had loved no man, though her affair with Ares was as close as she ever came.

This was why she hated teaching her daughter to become a good wife, but there was little she could control in the situation. All of Athens knew Alcippe to be the daughter of Megacles and even though Megacles knew better, he also knew that he could not forsake his wife for the actions of the gods nor could he allow any of his children, real or presumed, to follow a path outside of their defined roles. Aglauros thought on this every day, but especially this day; Megacles had told her that he would begin entertaining suitors for Alcippe’s hand and that he would be meeting with one, Halirrhothios, this evening.

Alcippe sighed and said, “Mother, I do not wish to continue learning these crafts as I am not suited to them. My weaving is messy.”

Aglauros smiled a little, but didn’t look up from her weaving, saying, “Ah, I see this is because of your father’s recent visit.”

Alcippe shifted uncomfortably in her chair and continued, “Yes, I have lately spoken with my father, but the will has been there as far back as memory allows.”

“Yes, you’ve always been a willful child, which is why your weaving is so terrible,” her mother replied, but her tone was not harsh. 

Resting her hands for a moment, Alcippe searched for the right words before finally deciding to reveal herself. “I am worried. I approach the age of marriage.”

“And?” her mother asked, finally looking up, her eyes locking firmly onto her daughter’s.

“I do not wish to marry. Father does not say that I must.”

Aglauros pursed her lips and thought carefully for a moment before responding, “You are treading dangerous waters, my daughter. Ares may be your father, but he comes and goes as the gods are wont to do. Megacles will be the one to decide your fate. Even tonight he entertains a suitor.” 

Her stomach roiled, acid reaching up to her mouth. Alcippe gasped and choked back the bitterness, asking, “W-who?”

“Halirrhothios.”

The daughter of Ares closed her eyes and put her head back. If she were to bear this burden, would that it was with anyone but he!

Her mother continued, “He is a good match, by all accounts. He is a citizen of the Neleides family. Wealthy enough. Reputable. Likely any marriage would happen after this conflict with Persia is over. I know Megacles – he will want any suitor to prove themselves valiant. Besides, Halirrhothios is also the son of a god. That is something over which you may bond, perhaps.”

Rolling her eyes, Alcippe snorted, “He does not miss opportunities, either, to remind the city that he is the son of Poseidon. His arrogance precedes him.”

Aglauros nodded seriously and said, “The vices of Athenian men are the burdens of their wives, mothers, and daughters. I hardly think that arrogance is enough to send him away so long as he does not commit hubris against the gods.”

Alcippe sighed and choked back her emotions which were dangerously close to bringing forth tears of frustration. Her mother missed none of this, having suffered through her own marriage in much the same way seventeen years ago. Her eyes were sad and resigned, and she held a hand out to her daughter’s face. “Think on it my daughter. You may find that his eagerness to marry you means he will be a devoted husband.” Aglauros hated herself for that comment and the words rang hollow to both.

A sudden screech-cry and a rustling of feathers on the veranda just outside their room drew their attention, interrupting the unhappy conversation. Alcippe ran outside and cried out at the terrible sight in front of her just as her mother reached her side. Two golden eaglets lay twisted in a heap.

“Oh, how sad,” Aglauros said, looking up at the trees. “There must be a nest nearby and the eaglets fell out. I’ll have one of the servants clean it up.”

Before they could turn away, a large owl swooped down and grasped the eaglets in its claws before inclining up and away. Alcippe gasped and turned to her mother, “Have you ever seen such thing before?”

Aglauros’s lips were tight for a moment before she responded, “Never, but I’ve heard of it. Come, let’s go inside.” Her daughter couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than a simple act of natural violence, but had no explanation. 

They resumed their work, their previous conversation and the preceding events casting a dark silence over them. After a few minutes, Aglauros returned to the matter at hand and said, “Say Ares will take you away – I will not resist it. I could not were I determined that you marry. It is not my wish to send you into a miserable existence, but to prepare you for the best outcome our sex can enjoy. But I want to be clear – the gods do not track time as we do. Ares will be focused on the coming war and then his other duties across this realm afterwards. Years could pass before you see him again and he would not realize it until he gazed upon your face.” There was no hatred or anger in her words, only compassion, which her daughter found to be strangely painful.

Alcippe only nodded her head and turned back to her work seeing no point in continuing a conversation that would only upset her further and paint her as a disrespectful child. Her only hope was that Ares would keep true to his word and take her away to the city he had promised, Themiskyra.

**************

After Persephone’s lunch with the nymphs, she fell into a rhythm where she worked side-by-side with the individuals she had previously seen as her wardens and found that she saw them less as a threat and more as her people. Nomia and Arethusa, in particular, spent the most time with the goddess, making lunch for her every day and filling a spot in her heart she hadn’t realized had been empty. Perhaps it had always been empty or perhaps it was her now-strained relationship with her mother which spurred her on to form new ones. 

Demeter. Impenetrable, guarded, resentful Demeter.

She had returned that same evening with little to say on her trip to Olympus, but her mood had been far more somber than normal in the several weeks that followed. Persephone thought it might be Demeter’s silence, uncharacteristic of the harvest goddess who was vocally preoccupied with maintaining her power against gods who might take it from her. The quietness had been welcomed at first; Persephone would rather not speak than have another verbal fight with her mother. After a few days, though, it was just oppressive.

So it was with a sigh that the spring goddess plopped herself down on a bench and took a bowl from her mother wordlessly as the harvest goddess sat down across from her. They ate breakfast outside that morning, a meal of barley bread, figs, and cheese, in silence. Demeter stared out into the distance at Aitne. Persephone focused on her plate and began to think about how she could fetch Hades for a secret tryst since monthly conjugal visits would simply not be enough.

“When you were in the Underworld, did Hades keep you locked up?” Demeter asked, her voice cutting the silence like a serrated dagger.

Persephone snorted and finished chewing her bread, taking the time to decide if her mother was purposely antagonistic or completely oblivious. Feeling charitable, the spring goddess responded, “Nay, I had free reign of the Underworld. ‘Where I go, you may go, Persephone, your word is as much law as mine.’ Those were his words to me my first night there.” She steeled herself for a caustic quip. When none came, she resumed eating her breakfast.

Demeter nodded her head and let the silence descend upon them again for a few minutes. She chewed her bread thoughtfully and Persephone could feel the tension of the silence about to break. Finally, the harvest goddess asked, “A week there is not such a long time. I supposed you did not see much, despite his words.” Persephone was trying to determine Demeter’s goal. A new strategy to find fault with Hades and petition Zeus to release her from the six-month arrangement? Or was it less malicious? Perhaps a general concern for her daughter’s well-being?

Without looking up from her bowl, Persephone replied between bites, “Aidoneus took me with him during his rounds. I met with the Underworld judges and Hecate. He showed me the Asphodel Meadows and even Tartarus – a little!” Her face lit up and she looked up at her mother to gauge her reaction, but it was still distant.

Demeter hadn’t missed the name she used though. “Aidoneus? I haven’t heard that name uttered in hundreds of years.” Persephone didn’t respond and Demeter didn’t seem to need one. Continuing, she said, “But he must have hid you away somewhat, otherwise Hermes would have found you when he delivered souls.”

Persephone frowned a bit and said, “I cannot say if it were intentional or by chance…”

“Knowing Hades, intentional,” Demeter responded quickly, an edge of bitterness to her voice. Persephone shuddered but didn’t react otherwise.

“…but I can say that it doesn’t matter to me,” Persephone continued, controlling her voice. She couldn’t let every little conversation with her mother upset her, else her six months above ground would be misery-eternal.

It was Demeter’s turn to snort. “You do not care that he engineered this entire plot? Abducting you, but then making you feel powerful by giving you leave to travel the land of the dead? As if any deity would want to do such a thing? Even _he_ did not want the Underworld. You do not care that he used sweet words to seduce you into believing you have any real authority? Seduce you right into his arms?”

Persephone bit her tongue and then bit into the bread to prevent herself from responding. Before she was abducted, she had had no reason to challenge Demeter. Before she was abducted, she was Kore, passive and ignorant. It was not that her mother was any different, it was that Persephone was changed and Demeter was resisting it. Finally, after swallowing the last bite of her bread, she said, “I understand that you do not like men. I understand that you especially despise your brothers, so I will not try to change that. All I ask is that you understand that I am not you. My opinions and motivations are my own. Would you have me bereft of all reason? Shall I become as one of Hephaestus’s automatons?”

Demeter huffed out a little, but appeared to calm herself as she worked on the last bites of her figs and cheese. She remembered how Zeus had comforted her once, long ago, when she suffered a traumatic event, how he whispered sweet words into her ears as he made love to her only to leave her when Hera whistled for him. Now her daughter was in a similar situation with Hades. Despite that they were both earth deities, that he was her brother, and that they had shared the pain of near-oblivion within Kronos, Demeter did not know Hades as well as she made out to Persephone. The fact that she didn’t know Hades very well at all was what made her fear for her daughter the most. If he were like Zeus or Poseidon, then he would take lover after lover and defile those who refused his advances. If he were like Kronos, then he would control her daughter, love only she even as he tortured her with his cruel nature. She simply could not fathom a future where her daughter was happy as queen consort of the king of the Underworld.

She swallowed the last bite of food and her pride and said, “You are right, my daughter, I cannot expect you to understand the world as I see it.” It was the best she was going to offer Persephone. Continuing, Demeter asked, “So what did you think of the Underworld?”

Persephone arched her brow. Was this a trick question, the wrong answer to be met with a tongue lashing? “I thought it a powerful place,” she replied, simply.

Demeter nodded her head, “That is true. All the monsters which ever existed reside there. The Titans too. And there are very old primordials as well who do not adhere to the will of Zeus.” There was almost admiration in her last sentence.

Persephone laughed, “Ah, you mean Nyx. I should have thought you to admire such a being that disregards the rule of the gods.”

Demeter wanted to laugh, but she had experienced her share of pain at the hands of the Titans during the great war. “Indeed,” was all she replied before continuing, “And as you’ve said, you met Hecate.”

Persephone nodded and said, “Yes, a few times. Aido-I mean, Hades meets with her regularly.”

Demeter smiled and said, “She is a wise Titaness, my daughter. Not an unreasonable teacher for you in the Underworld. Did she show you any of her magic?”

Persephone shook her head and said, “No, but there wasn’t much time. Maybe when I return.”

Despite her best efforts, Demeter shuddered at the thought of her daughter descending into the Underworld, but said nothing as she stood up and collected her daughter’s bowl. The harvest goddess was very worried, but didn’t want her daughter to know just yet. Her trip to Olympus hadn’t been very helpful; Zeus was disengaged from the matter, which Demeter simply could not understand. Typhoeus was a serious threat and yet the king of the gods was content to engage in his vices, or worse, nothing at all. It was all she could think about on her return home from Olympus. Part of her knew that she should go to Hades, as warden of the monsters, but her pride and anger prevented her from doing so. She rationalized that he was aware already of the situation through his own powers and did not require her assistance. Demeter could have wished, though, that her daughter was more well-acquainted with Hecate.

Persephone watched her mother’s retreating figure and then turned back to look at the volcano. She needed to figure out if there were an easy passage nearby to the Underworld. Standing up she wandered through the woods, half-lost in her thoughts and half-seeking out Arethusa. She was a river nymph, but, more importantly, her waters traveled a great deal underground. Though she were not an Underworld nymph, she would know enough of the terrain to help guide her, Persephone reasoned.

As she approached the pond where she was sure to find the nymphs bathing, she heard a commotion. Before she could reach the source, a hand grabbed hers and stopped her. Looking over her shoulder, the spring goddess was faced with Nomia, a frightened look on her face. “My lady, I was looking for you!” Stopping to catch her breath, she rested a trembling hand on the goddess’s shoulder.

“What is the matter, Nomia?” Persephone asked.

“Arethusa…someone is trying to take her away!”

Persephone ran to the pond to find a man with his hands upon Arethusa’s waist, attempting to hoist her up and over his shoulder. Arethusa punched at his shoulders and back, crying out for help as the other nymphs attempted to pull her away. Images of her own abduction flashed through Persephone’s mind and brought up a well of unexpected anger. She ground out, “Put. Her. Down.” Her voice resonated unnaturally, commanding everyone’s attention immediately.

He looked over his shoulder at the goddess and released the nymph who fell with a thud on her side. Quickly, the other nymphs pulled Arethusa back into the pond and swam her to the other side to get as far away as possible.

He smiled and Persephone found it disturbing. Finally, he said, “Goddess, pardon, I meant no disrespect. I am merely come to collect my bride.”

Persephone placed a hand on her hip and said, “Oh, is that so?” She looked him up and down and determined that he was more than a man, but not a significant threat to her own power; likely a minor deity. She turned to the nymphs huddled in the pond and asked, “Arethusa, is this minor god your betrothed?”

“N-n-no, my lady,” she said, sobbing into the arms of another nymph.

Persephone nodded and turned back to the god, demanding, “Tell me your name.”

His face was unreadable as he responded, “I am Alpheus, river god of Eleia.”

Persephone placed her other hand on the opposite hip and squared her shoulders, “You are far from home. I suggest that you leave immediately.”

He looked over at Arethusa longingly and said, “Not without my bride.”

Persephone shook her head, disgusted. “Do not think to dictate terms to me. You leave now or I rip your essence from your flesh, leaving you nothing more than the waters from which you sprung.”

He looked back at her and paled, bowing his head, “Forgive me, Bringer of Death, I did not recognize you. I will take my leave.” And with that, he skulked off into the woods and away from the nymphs. 

Persephone turned to Nomia and said, “Fetch Arethusa and the other nymphs and return to the clearing. I will follow him from a distance to ensure he leaves the property.” 

“Yes, my lady!” Nomia said emphatically, her eyes glinting.

Internally, the spring goddess knew why the event upset her and knowing the reason _why_ upset her further. Hades’s abduction of her, the raw violence of it, still shook her even as her heart opened up to the harsh king. Would she always feel guilty for letting herself want him and enjoying every moment she spent with him?

Walking off into the woods, she descended further into her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to get H&P back together soon, for all of my thirsty readers.
> 
> We're moving into the part of the story where big things are going to start happening. So excited!
> 
> As always, I appreciate the time you take to read my story. If you've liked it, please leave a comment. If you didn't, please let me know too! I am here to write the stories burning in my head, improve my writing (so I can publish a novel one day), and entertain my readers.


	18. The Seed of Discontent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW stuff. Sad fantasy 69.
> 
> Hades is still tormented by the memory of abducting Persephone.
> 
> He later meets with Hecate who gives him an unhappy revelation.
> 
> Minthe decides to insert herself back into the King of the Underworld's life.

The fact that Hades woke early that day was unsurprising. Neither was the fact that the overwhelming loneliness that had been his companion for hundreds of years was also present. He sighed and looked over at the empty spot in his bed, dimly lit by the fireplace. The little companionship he’d had had been devoid of the emotional bond he sought. He tried not to think about the past too much since meeting Persephone as it always left him in a sour mood, but it was unavoidable this morning as he stared at the little spot he hoped his wife would fill for six months of the year. 

That was the direction this was heading, was it not? Was he getting ahead of himself? He had shared his consciousness and body with his wife. He had felt, for a brief moment, the blind joy of sexual and emotional acceptance. How Hades craved it this morning; he wondered if she craved it too. Thinking about her, about the way she responded to his touch, especially when she rode him to find her pleasure sent a wave of arousal over his body. He thought about the ways he would bring her to orgasm and about how he’d show her what he likes. He thought about the promise on which he had yet to make good, to use his tongue on her most sensitive spot.

Hades imagined she was there, laying on her side facing him, idly tracing nonsensical patterns over his chest. Her knowing smile intrigued him and he gently held her wrist to stop her movements and pull her in to kiss her, dipping his tongue into her mouth. He could feel her smile in her kiss and it sent a jolt to his groin. Groaning, he pulled her naked form onto him, spreading her legs to either side of his chest. 

“My king is quite impatient this morning,” she laughed.

He smirked and said, “I am always impatient for you.”

“But you have me, my king. I’ve been right here next to you all night,” she replied innocently.

“Hmm…I have a better idea,” he said as he coaxed her to turn around on his chest until she was facing away from him. Before she could call back another mock-innocent comment, he pulled her legs back until she could feel his breath on her lower lips. Eagerly, he began lapping at her, his tongue sliding forward over her cunt until he found her nub. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and rolled her tongue around the tip of his cock before taking in as much of his length as she could fit in her mouth. Humming around his cock elicited a moan from Hades, urging him to lap at her faster.

They spent minutes like this, devouring each other, hungry for their orgasm. He inserted two fingers into her cunt, thrusting back and forth in time with his tongue. Finally, Persephone lifted her head and called over her shoulder, “Oohhh…I’m so close, I’m…” and then she was crying out “Aidoneus!” as she came riding his face. 

Persephone dropped her head to his abdomen, his cock abandoned as she rode out the aftershocks of her orgasm. When her breathing returned to normal, she cast a look over her shoulder, biting her bottom lip, and said, somewhat dreamily, “Your turn.”

Before Hades could respond, she had darted off of his chest and dove between his knees. Persephone wanted to make eye contact with him when he came in her mouth, wanted him to watch her swallow his seed. Wasting no time, she dipped her head back to his throbbing cock and licked up the underside before inserting it back into her mouth, gripping the base with one hand. 

Hades watched her, a combination of raw desire and tenderness in his heart. Never had a lover done such a thing for him, the intimacy of the act more than any could bear with him. Yet here was this beautiful goddess worshiping his sex. Gently, he ran one, then two hands through her hair, but did not push her head down. He felt his orgasm approaching and resisted the urge to throw his head back and close his eyes, instead forcing himself to maintain eye contact with his queen. She gently massaged his balls, squeezing them ever so slightly. 

He felt it then, his orgasm washing over him. He pressed his hands down onto his thighs to keep himself from thrusting up, calling out, “Persephone!” Then it was done and he was catching his breath, watching his wife pull back from his cock and swallow his seed. The little bit that leaked out afterwards she caught as she ran her tongue over his softening flesh. Sighing, she sat back on her heels and examined her contented king.

Hades broke from the fantasy and looked down at the mess on his abdomen. He felt relaxed, but somehow unclean, as if he were violating some unspoken trust. He didn’t understand why he would feel this way, having experienced intimacy with his wife, yet the feeling nagged at him. 

Then the image crossed his mind of his abduction of Persephone. A sudden stabbing pain in Hades’s gut at the memory made him realize that he had not yet forgiven himself for the fear he brought to the one he claimed to love. He knew why he did it – desperate loneliness – but that did not console him. He wondered if he were destined to seek reassurance repeatedly that his wife truly did forgive him. She had said she trusted him, but perhaps she did not know herself yet? If he concentrated hard enough, Hades could almost see the event from her perspective and the image of his terrifying presence made him shut his eyes tightly in shame and horror. In the back of his mind a small voice called out that perhaps it was their joining, the exchange of memories, which had caused this.

He stood up and retired to his bath to clean up, trying to refocus on the day’s events as he filled his wash basin with warm water. His bath was a retreat, a little pleasure he had given himself when he had built his palace. A hot spring ran below his bath; in fact, he constructed his palace around the hot spring so that even on the coldest, loneliest days, he could at least immerse himself in the soothing embrace of warm water. The wash basin and the tub were crafted from the darkest Cipollino marble, swirls of nearly-black green dominating a creamy white base imitated the look of smoke on a sky. Even the accents in the room were marble, excluding the frame of the full-length mirror he kept mounted off to the side of the wash basin. The mirror, curiously, had not been his idea, but a gift from Hephaestus, the idea for which had sprung from Aphrodite. The mirror was made of polished bronze, as the mortals used. However, when Hades stepped in front of the mirror, a clear image would render, the joint product of Hephaestus’s and Aphrodite’s powers. Hades was not a vain man, but they had been insistent that he use the mirror so that he never forgot who he was in the Underworld. It was given as a good gesture, so he could not be angry. It’s just that he never felt a true need to use it – until now. He stood in front of it, naked as the day he was born, and waited as the bronze glowed to life and reflected himself.

He felt his spirits drop further. This was the immortal that had carried Persephone off. No wonder she had been so terrified! Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades all bore a similar look, but Hades was somehow more severe, as if the Underworld coaxed the very worst out of him. He was larger and more scarred than the others and his face – fates! – his face was so serious that the severe lines of his cheeks and nose could cut glass. It was a wonder that she had graced him with any affection whatsoever.

Irritated with himself, he cleaned himself up and dressed, the relaxation he felt at his release all but a distant memory. Cursing to himself, he slammed the door to his chambers closed and stalked off to find Hecate. He would need to meet with her to discuss a suitable instrument to channel Persephone’s powers. He also hoped that she might have more insight on the Typhoeus situation. He could probably skip meeting with the judges today and go straight to Zeus, although he found it odd that his brother had not summoned him in the last few weeks. Usually Zeus was very sensitive to any threats to Olympus, but Hades had to admit to himself that he did not look forward to seeing his brother. Perhaps he was being uncharitable as it was Zeus’s blessing that had allowed Hades to have his bride.

In the shadows, a cloaked figure waited for him to leave before entering his chambers. No guard protected the palace or his quarters for the Underworld was free from criminals, unlike the mortal world, Hades had reasoned; all malicious entities were locked up in Tartarus. The cloaked figure knew this to be mostly true, excluding perhaps her own presence, but she did not see her actions as criminal, but necessary. Necessary to win back the lord of the Underworld and reclaim her position.

Minthe silently closed the chamber’s door behind her and took in a deep breath, looking around. In the exactly seven years, three months, and five days since Hades had scorned her, he had made no changes to the décor. She walked past the fireplace and little bronze table to the bedroom, imagining the last time that they had made love. It wasn’t her favorite past time, but the thought that the goddess of spring had shared this bed with him grated on her endlessly.

The nymph had worked very hard to pull herself out of the clutches of the dreary Cocytus. A future free of the icy waters and wailing shades, a future filled with powerful opportunity had driven her to formulate a plan to dazzle the lord of the Underworld. She soothed herself that it was just a matter of time, a setback, and that while she might not be queen right away, she might be able to reclaim his bed and a place away from the Cocytus.

Looking around for any sign that the spring goddess had been present, Minthe re-entered the antechamber and stared into the dying embers in the fireplace for a few minutes. Surely Persephone would have left some personal belongings behind, an indication of cohabitation. Minthe was getting the distinct impression that Hades’s bed had been cold since she left, that perhaps the spring goddess was merely a wife in name only.

She looked over on the bronze table and cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. A letter. She read the simple sentence: _I believe you_ , and scratched her chin. To what did Persephone refer? Refusing to accept the obvious, Minthe had to acknowledge that this letter was special to Hades for him to keep it so close. Rolling it back up, she stuck it into the lining of her cloak, already formulating how she would use this letter to her advantage if her first plan did not work.

**************

When he raised a fist to rap on her door, she opened it up. He smiled a little and said, “I guess you were expecting me.”

Hecate shrugged and retreated back to her fireplace, a stew bubbling over it. “We talk nearly every day. I knew you’d be here at some point, Hades.”

He cleared his throat and decided against sitting down lest that be an invitation to dine with his friend. “Well, I do not plan on staying long. I merely wanted to discuss with you Persephone – what we might have Hephaestus craft for her. I had thought a torch.”

Hecate rubbed her chin thoughtfully and then asked, “Why a torch?” The mortals often associated two torches to Hecate and Demeter was even depicted with them at times.

Hades took in a deep breath and said, somewhat shakily, “She brings light to the Underworld.”

She replied cheekily, “And fire to your heart.”

Hades folded his arms across his chest and nodded, “Aye, amongst other places.”

The crone cackled a bit and said, “I see Zeus and Poseidon have rubbed off on you.”

Hades laughed and shook his head, “Nay, friend, my love’s focus is single-minded. But truly, do you think it a good idea?”

Hecate said, “Giving her a tool to channel her Underworld powers is a priority. She’ll use it regardless of the form it takes – that is more for you to decide as the gift-bearer. If the torch is what you feel in your heart is best, then it can never be a bad idea.”

Hades nodded, pleased to feel that in this he could at least do right by his wife. He turned to leave, but stopped himself. “Hecate, have you any more thoughts on Typhoeus? The entire situation is…odd to me.”

She sighed and thought for a moment before responding, “No, unfortunately.” She had hoped to leave it at that for now until she could find more information.

Hades ran a hand over his short beard and asked, “Hmm…but there are only so many powerful enough to lift a binding spell. Have you spoken with Circe or perhaps Nyx?”

Hecate gave her stew one final stir and then responded, “I have not spoken with Nyx, but I did visit Circe a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hecate! Why did you not let me know?” he was annoyed, but not angry – yet.

“Because there is nothing to know. Circe is a drunken mess secluded on Aeaea,” Hecate responded coldly, staring off into the fire. “She squanders her powers tormenting mortal men. Creates strange beasts and _makes love_ to them, entirely against their will.”

Hades cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, “I know that she’s disappointed you, but I need to know if you think she’s involved.”

Hecate shook her head, but said, “I don’t know.”

Hades’s face was grim as he evaluated his friend and advisor. “I wish you would have told me sooner. Why are you unsure?” When Hecate paused to answer, Hades pressed her, “You have suspicions…I need to know what those are.”

She snapped her head up and said, “I cannot voice them. It was nothing more than a vague feeling I got when I was there. Circe was miserable, but she’s always been miserable. Her nymphs accosted me, but that’s nothing new. But when I spoke with her, I had the feeling I was being watched and that stayed with me until I came back to the Underworld.”

Hades threw up his hands, “Hecate, we have to bring her here now. She could be working with another immortal to raise Typhoeus. If you visited her and they were watching, she could be in trouble.”

Hecate shrugged and said, “I know this, Hades, but she made her choice. If I had brought her back to the Underworld, whoever she was working for would certainly have covered their tracks. If she didn’t tell us, we’d never know. And even if she did tell us who her co-conspirator was, any evidence outside of her word would likely be cleaned up before we could bring them before the pantheon. What is the word of an outsider to the Olympians?”

Hades shook his head and paced back and forth in her little shack. “No, no, this isn’t good. You at least owed me that explanation so I could have made an informed decision.”

Hecate turned back to her stew to give it a little stir and take time to let the emotion in the room settle. Finally, she spoke, “Well, you’re not going to like my theory, though I had hoped to keep it to myself until I had some proof.”

Hades paused in his pacing, staring at her expectantly. When she did not respond quickly enough, he asked, “Well? Go on!”

Hecate cocked her head to the side and said, “You do not find it strange that Typhoeus woke a little around the same time that the Keres awoke?”

Hades raised a hand and asked, “So what, Nyx is involved?”

Hecate said, “I wouldn’t know that, only that whomever is behind one is likely behind the other. There are multiple pieces at play here.”

Hades did not react at first, his mind running through the list of possible perpetrators, but coming up with no solid lead. Sighing he said, “I need you to bring Circe back here as quickly as you can. I must speak with her. In the meantime, I am going to find Nyx.” He observed Hecate’s reaction, but her face betrayed nothing. He said, “I know you have your ways of operating, but I need to know that you won’t hold anything else back from me. We have to trust each other if we’re going to solve this.”

The crone slowly nodded her head and said, “You have my word.”

With that, Hades rushed out of her shack and back towards the Palace of Hypnos. He would need assistance from Nyx’s son to communicate with the primordial deity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is loved and appreciated. If you're still with me on this journey, you're the best! :-)


	19. Sleep to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter for my readers. :-)
> 
> Hades and Hypnos try to communicate with Nyx.
> 
> Minthe accosts Persephone.

Hades ascended the steps of Hypnos’s Palace, a glorified name for what was, essentially, an expanded cave supported by many pillars. In front of the wide entrance were thick drapes of a depthless deepest black meant to blot out all noise from the rest of the Underworld. This was where the twins Hypnos and Thanatos; Pasithea, wife of Hypnos; as well as the many dream deities, the Oneiroi, slept.

Hades quietly peeled back the drapes and weaved his way through the wide columns, which were adorned with oil lamps. It was very little light, even by Underworld standards, but enough for the creatures of sleep to see when their consciousness graced the waking world. He found Hypnos curled on his side, his wings extending a little with every breath out and retracting with each intake. Youthful Pasithea slept next to him, his hand clutching hers. Although Hades referred to the twins as boys, he was perhaps wrong to do so for they were slightly older than he, but forever graced with a teenage youthfulness, much like Hermes. 

Hypnos’s wings began twitching and Hades felt a little sad to interrupt his sleep, but he required his assistance urgently. Gently, Hades grasped the sleep god’s shoulder and roused him. Taking a deep breath, he released his wife’s hand and looked over his shoulder, furrowing his brow at the god of the dead, who motioned for him to follow him.

Outside, Hypnos seemed to carry the spell of sleep with him as Hades began to go into his plan. “Hypnos, I have a very urgent and secret task for you. I need to know you will not speak of it to anyone – not even Thanatos.” Hades felt his shoulders begin to slump against an invisible weight.

The god of sleep asked, “Yes, my lord. What is it?” Hypnos rarely overlapped with Hades in functionality, despite being a resident of the Underworld. His desire to serve Hades was not borne out of loyalty, but a deep desire to gather secrets to himself. As the god of dreams, he was privy to the darkest desires the mortals and immortals had, and the acquisition of knowledge never ceased to thrill him.

“I need you to speak to your mother.”

He furrowed his brow again, but nodded his head slowly. “Certainly. What do you wish me to say to her? I can contact her through a dream.”

Hades shook his head and said, “It’s more than a message. I don’t know how the conversation will go. I need to be present as well.” He sighed after he’d spoken his words, the thought of going to sleep appealing in a rare way, as if it were a little pleasure he kept for himself.

Hypnos nodded and reached out for Hades’s hand, pulling him back into his abode. “Come, let’s retire inside and I will guide you to her.”

The entire situation made him slightly uncomfortable, as if he were sharing an intimate moment with an associate, but he was too tired to resist or even care. Before he realized, Pasithea was rising and guiding him down to her couch, gently coaxing him to face Hypnos. Hades didn’t hear anything or feel anything, not even when Hypnos slipped his slender hand into his larger, rougher one. The god of sleep closed his eyes and Hades felt his own falling.

**************

Hades woke up and stretched, briefly startled by the scene before him remembering that he had fallen asleep in Hypnos’s palace. He looked around but saw no one, not even Hypnos on his couch next to him. Scratching his cheek, the god of the dead made his way to the drapes, trying to remember how the conversation with Nyx had gone.

He pulled back the curtains and saw only darkness. The air was cold and humid and it felt like the darkness before him was infiltrating his body through his nose. He felt a hand on his arm and heard Hypnos’s soft voice say, “My mother is here with us. Speak and I will communicate it to her.”

Nyx did not speak the same language as the gods, or, as Hades’s suspected, she did not _want_ to speak with the gods. She was an inhabitant of the Underworld, a willing tenant of Tartarus, but held herself to her own rules. Hades’s decrees meant little to her and her outright disdain for Zeus was well known. So, the god of the dead was consigned to speaking to her through her sons.

Hades felt as if he were in a trance, movements and thoughts very slow for him. Finally, he found his words and said, “Nyx, the Keres have awoken. What knowledge have you of the coming war?”

He could feel _something_ happening, but heard no words uttered by Hypnos. After a time, the god of sleep turned to Hades and said, “She says, ‘If you seek foreknowledge, you must consult with the Fates.’”

Hades smiled wryly – so _this_ was how it was to be. He responded, “Ask her if she woke the Keres or if they did so on their own accord.”

Hypnos responded, “My lord, the Keres rise on their own. I need not ask her that.”

“And yet I wish you to do so.”

“Very well,” the god of sleep responded. A few minutes later, he replied, “She says, ‘The Keres are drawn to war, to the blood and pain of the dying. This you know.’”

Hades crossed his arms, though he could not see them in the darkness. “And yet there is no war. They have risen too soon.”

A few minutes later, Hypnos responded, “She says, ‘War must be coming to Athenian soil for them to rise.’”

Hades leaned towards the young god’s voice and asked, “Hypnos, do _you_ think that to be true? You see the dreams of everyone.”

“I-I…” he hesitated a moment to gather his thoughts. “I have seen the dreams of many an Athenian and the fear of Persia is in their hearts.”

“Ask her one final question: will Aitne erupt the risen remnants of Typhoeus when the Persians land? Is that her plan? To bring chaos to the world so that she can blanket the remnants in her eternal night?”

“My lord! I cannot ask her that. You accuse her-” Hypnos said, shocked at the god of the dead’s words.

Hades interrupted him, “I know what I’ve asked!”

A low, whispery voice emanated from all around, saying, “You make enemies when you look for villains.”

**************

Hades trudged back to his chambers, mentally exhausted from his engagement with Nyx. Being drawn into a sleep with the purpose of engaging with other consciousnesses was not restful, especially when such dreams were not fruitful. 

He slammed the door behind him as he walked straight into his bathroom, paying no mind to his surroundings. Stripping off his clothing, Hades began to fill the marble tub with water, impatient to immerse himself in a soothing hot bath. His senses were dulled and he felt close to falling back into the sleep Hypnos had lured him earlier. The frustrating encounter with Nyx, her stubborn answers, and the overwhelming negative energy of the dream had only worsened his foul mood. He tried not to think of Persephone as he immersed himself in the water lest his frustration boil over.

And yet as he eased himself back against the side of the tub and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine her hands coursing down his chest. He sighed and began to feel himself unwind imagining what it would be like to hold Persephone close to him here, in his massive tub. He breathed in deeply and a familiar scent wafted his way. Immediately his muscles tensed.

The hands he imagined on his body were real. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to see to pale arms and wrists on either side of his body, the hands already immersed in the warm water. Swallowing, he grabbed both wrists and turned around quickly. Frowning, he demanded, “Minthe, why are you here?”

“I’ve come to help you relax. I’ve missed you, my lord,” she said almost too sweetly.

Hades smirked and said, disgustedly, “Ah, I should have known you would not stay away as soon as I took another. You are transparent.” He pushed her wrists away from him, but she remained kneeling behind him, her large green eyes pleading.

Ignoring his tone, Minthe responded, “Has not enough time elapsed between us to tamper the flame of your anger? Can you not recall the ways in which I embraced you?”

Hades ran a hand down his face and said, “I have tried to forget them, even before I met Persephone, although her touch does heal my heart.”

Minthe’s expression cracked and she sneered, “Do you think your wife will be faithful to you during these long six months? Even now, Hermes has unfettered access to her, while you are down here.”

Her words were biting, a familiar tone she had always taken with her presumed inferiors, now leashed on him in a pathetic attempt to corral him back to her. She had tapped into Hades’s weakness, his jealousy of the young god, but he would not let her see that. Remaining calm, he said, “You must leave. Now.”

Frowning, she continued, “Why deny yourself a warm bed for six months? I am here. I’ve always been here!”

Hades shook his head and said, “You cannot understand. I pity you, Minthe.” Then, his voice deepened and a wind whipped up in the room. “I banish you from this palace forevermore.”

Minthe’s large eyes widened further as she disappeared from the room, leaving behind only the slightly spicy scent of her person. It nauseated Hades and his bath was thoroughly ruined. Sighing, he stood and stepped out, not bothering to dry himself off as he stumbled into the antechamber. He waved a hand and the fire came to life. As he stared into the flames, his mouth set into a thin line, willing himself to forget the past, to forgive his poor decisions, to focus on the future.

One thing nagged at his mind: he found it curious that Minthe had mentioned Hermes. How did they know each other? Slowly his mouth curved into a crooked grin. Whatever the messenger god thought he was doing would pale in comparison to what Hades would do to him. He had spent time thinking about it and he felt a prolonged stay entirely in the service of the Underworld would be a fitting punishment for the boy.

**************

The minute she was banished from Hades’s palace was the minute she knew she was going straight to the mortal realm to settle this. She could not risk waiting and Hades’s discovering that the letter was missing. He was clever enough to figure out that she had stolen it and would demand it from her. No, if this was going to work, she had to alienate Persephone from Hades. 

This was why she found herself standing just inside the woods that surrounded Demeter’s property. Ahead she could see a small fire and a few figures sitting around, talking and even laughing a little. Minthe had little knowledge of what the goddess of spring looked like, but had a feeling that she would know her when she met her. Absent-mindedly checking her cloak for the letter, and satisfied that it was still there, the nymph walked up to the fire.

A hush descended upon the group. Persephone sat in the middle of Nomia and Arethusa and across from them several other nymphs sat. Arethusa’s eyes widened and Nomia cocked an eyebrow. The goddess of spring looked at the nymph with little concern and said, “Oh, are you new? Did my mother send you here?”

Minthe resisted the urge to sneer and said, “No, I am here to speak with you on a matter of urgency.”

Persephone shrugged, but Arethusa grabbed the edge of her peplos and said, “My lady, she is an Underworld nymph.”

Persephone’s eyes lit up. Standing, she smiled and said, “You should have told me that Hades sent you. Have you a message for me?”

“Indeed I do,” Minthe said and proffered the letter, again resisting the urge to smirk.

Persephone felt something off, but took the letter. “It’s not sealed,” she said. “Have you read this?” Her voice was beginning to rise.

“I have,” Minthe said simply, finally letting the smile cross her face. Nomia stared daggers at the Underworld nymph whilst Arethusa and the others leaned away from her, uncomfortable at her presence.

Persephone huffed and unrolled the letter. Reading her familiar hand, she suddenly felt numb. She dropped the letter to the ground and Nomia was quick to grab it, rolling it up and tucking it away from prying eyes. “Y-y-you…” Persephone pointed and cocked her head to the side, “Wh-who are y-you?”

“Minthe, your husband’s lover.”

“Lies!” Nomia shouted. Arethusa ran away, back towards the house.

Minthe smirked at the angry nymph before turning her large eyes back at Persephone. “He and I were together before he met you. He takes a goddess as his queen, but a nymph as his lover. That is the way of the gods, is it not?”

Persephone was winded – no words would come to her mind. Nomia turned to the goddess and said calmly, “Do not listen to her. Many a lie has been told in the wish that it was true. Why come here alone, at night, if her position as concubine were real?”

Minthe hissed and said, “I will prove it to you. He is heavily scarred on his torso. There is a scar on his neck which descends to his chest. And he is an expert lover.” Persephone frowned, disgusted by the words, but could not speak. “Or have you not known him like that? A wife in name only.” Minthe waited for a response, but when none came, she continued, “He and I laughed over the naivete of your note.”

Nomia stood up and said, “Enough, what do you want, you scum?”

Shrugging, Minthe responded, “Simply to alert the Queen that Hades’s bed is otherwise occupied. So she is not surprised when she goes back to the Underworld.”

“Is that so?” came the caustic voice of Demeter behind Persephone. Arethusa hid herself partially behind the harvest goddess.

Minthe, realizing the danger posed by Demeter, took a few steps back and made to leave, but the nymphs that had previously kept away rushed forward and grabbed her arms. Demeter looked over at her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing it. Persephone looked over at her, tears coursing down her face and dripping off her chin. “Well?” the harvest goddess asked.

“Well?” Persephone repeated, dumbly.

“Are you going to demonstrate for us what you can do as goddess of the spring and queen of the dead? Surely you’re not going to let her go?” Demeter’s words were encouraging.

The goddess of spring nodded her head and then turned her face back to Minthe, a sinister smile donning her lips. The Underworld nymph struggled to break free, but Persephone’s friends held her tightly. She walked up to her, thinking of the ways she could dispatch her. It seemed too quick and impersonal to just kill her with the flick of her hand. No, she wanted this nymph to suffer as she had. 

The goddess of spring lifted up her leg and kicked the nymph until she fell over, the other nymphs letting go and retreating back to Demeter. Persephone continued to stomp on the nymph even as she cried out for help and begged for mercy. She stomped to expel all of the anger that still welled in her heart over Arethusa’s near kidnapping; the anger that she felt towards her controlling mother; the anger she felt towards Hades for confusing her. Finally, when she was done stomping her feet, the Underworld nymph faded away and up sprung a small plant. Persephone stood looking down at it.

Nomia looked over at Demeter and the other nymphs, who waited for the spring goddess to react, and then decided to walk over herself. She looked into Persephone’s blank eyes and then down at the plant, which seemed to have spread out around them. She was vigorous weed, the nymph observed. Bending down, she pulled off a few leaves and popped them in her mouth. Everyone stared at Nomia and Persephone put her hand over her mouth to stop her gasp.

“Well, how does it taste?” Demeter asked, he hands on her hips, a proud smile on her lips.

Nomia cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment before responding, “Sweet and a little spicy, but not very strong, my lady.” Demeter snorted a laugh and the other nymphs chuckled along. Turning to Arethusa, she said, “Come and try this. I think it might work in your little honeyed cheesecakes that our lady here loves so much.”

Arethusa had the decency to look embarrassed before finally walking over and putting her arm around Persephone’s shoulders and said, “Come, now. It’s my turn to comfort you.” 

Persephone nodded her head, but then stopped and addressed the group, “Never give me _that_ to eat.” The numbness was beginning to slowly lift as pain descended to fill its place. 

Demeter watched her daughter and Arethusa walk off and then looked back at Nomia before shrugging and retreating back to her house. She knew Persephone was upset now, but she would eventually accept the inevitability of her position: wielding power against her enemies and accepting that her spouse would never be faithful. The harvest goddess was loathe to believe Minthe’s words, but had a hard time not believing that Hades was like Zeus. Her only wish was that Persephone would not emotionally invest herself in the god of the dead as she apparently already had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know your thoughts. 
> 
> The chapter title comes from Fiona Apple's song off of her album, Tidal.
> 
> The sleep scenes were inspired by a couple of my favorite movies: The Cell (such stunning visuals) and Inception (the sedation clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mi-vUqq7aMk )
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to be true to Minthe's myth. Honestly, I've always disliked her as a mythological character, but I still struggled with the violence part of it. I wrote this last night and walked away, unsure if I should leave it in or make her death more swift.


	20. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone stews in her jealousy for a few weeks and asks Hades a question.
> 
> Hades meets with Zeus and Hera - separately - and is chilled by the encounters.
> 
> All in all it's a terrible day for everyone. Lots of angst.

She sighed – again – and rested her arm across her brow, blotting out the hateful sun from her eyes. The cool water of the pond did little to ease the angry fire in her heart and the more time that passed since _Minthe_ had shown up, the worse she felt. It didn’t matter that Nomia had carefully explained to her multiple times why the Underworld nymph was a liar. It didn’t matter to her that logically her would-be rival’s words did not match Hades’s behavior towards her. It didn’t matter that her stupid heart still wanted the dark king of the Underworld. 

The idea was rooted in her head like a weed, spreading its toxicity through her body. The thought that Hades would betray and ridicule her behind her back was almost too easy to believe. After all, her mother had done little to paint a positive portrait of the gods. The only god Demeter tolerated was Hermes and that was mostly out of necessity. The spring goddess made a point of not bringing it up around her mother lest she hear the lecture that all gods stray and she should be happy with the power she has and toss away any silly notions of love she had entertained.

Those green eyes haunted her, too. Minthe might have been horrible, but who was she to end her life? _She_ was the queen of the Underworld, she reminded herself, but it didn’t feel right. _Nothing_ felt right.

Then the intrusive _other_ thoughts would creep in, ones that she knew were not hers: long stretches of solitude; desperate loneliness; hostility in the dark depths of Tartarus; boredom. This was Hades, she knew, or at least the part of him he had shared when they were joined on Aitne. The memory of such pleasure now ached in her heart and she felt guilty for ever deriving joy in his arms. Oh, but to be held by those strong arms again, his whispered praises in her ear, and his hard body pressed against hers!

It all seemed so, _so_ wrong.

Tortured thusly, Persephone went back and forth in her mind about the situation, chiding herself when she dared to believe the best of her husband, teetering on the edge of panic when she thought the worst. Dropping her arm from her eyes she looked about the pond’s edge for her peplos, which was laid out upon a rock. She’d cast it off mindlessly as she’d walked towards the water, one of the nymphs picking it up for her as they trailed behind. This was the care that they provided, the warmth of their presence and a ready ear when she needed it. Nomia and the other nymphs talked idly nearby, giving her just enough space to wallow. Arethusa hadn’t yet returned to the pond since the incident with Alpheus and Persephone tried not to dwell on it too much. The anger within her combined with her jealous heart made her feel like she was a different goddess. 

Emerging from the water, she shook her arms and legs to dry herself off before adorning her peplos again. She knew she had been delaying the inevitable by going for a morning bath and that Hermes would be waiting for her at her mother’s house. With a severe look plastered across her brow and lips, Persephone finished tying her girdle. Nomia was by her side but said nothing as they walked back.

Sure enough, Hermes was there, munching on leftover tiganites from breakfast. When he saw Persephone emerge from the woods, his face brightened. Her beauty always stunned him. She must’ve been bathing, he thought, as he took in the wet hair which clung to the sides of her face, neck, and over her chest. His baser instincts wanted to take her back to wherever she had been swimming and join her, but that thought was quickly erased as he took in her grim visage. “Persephone! What ails you?”

Shaking her head, the spring goddess forced a weak smile and said, “Nothing, dear brother. I am sorry for keeping you waiting.” _Dear brother_. The endearment stabbed him in the stomach.

Hermes embraced her and then looked closely into her eyes, the pit of his stomach dropping as he wondered if his carelessness at the Cocytus weeks ago had somehow caused her anguish. He swallowed almost imperceptibly but Nomia’s sharp eyes caught it. “Tis no trouble, Persephone, but pray tell me what is on your mind. It seems a heavy burden.”

A wave of emotion coursed through Persephone, taking her by surprise, and she found herself leaning forward, burying her face into her brother’s shoulder and clutching his arms with her hands. Furious tears erupted from her eyes as her sobs shook her body. Eyes wide at the scene in front of him, Hermes could do nothing but wrap his own arms around her for several minutes.

Finally, Persephone pulled herself together and looked at him, debating how much she wanted to share with him. Sure, he was her brother and had practically raised her, but since her relationship with Hades had begun, things had been strained between them. She could not help but wonder if Hades’s jealousy was well-founded, but the thought angered her almost immediately as she remembered the large green eyes of her rival and her taunting words. Swallowing thickly, Persephone stood up straight and composed her tear-stained features as best she could before asking, “What know you of Underworld nymphs?”

Hermes strong legs suddenly felt weak and a wave of nausea washed over him. Nomia observed his obvious discomfort and narrowed her eyes slightly, but said nothing. Finding his voice, he replied, “Not much, sister. I do not interact with them as a matter of course.”

Persephone crossed her arms across her chest and looked away as she debated her next question. Finally, she asked, “Do you know if Hades takes any as lovers?”

Hermes shook his head and said, “Hades is a private individual and not one to share details of any part of his life with me.” He knew he should tell her what happened but he was weak. He feared she would abandon him completely and he would cease to know her as even a brother.

Persephone nodded her head but said nothing as she turned and walked towards the fire pit where she and her nymphs spent many evenings. Crouching down she roughly picked a handful of a small plant and stuffed it into a little linen byrsa concealed in the folds of her peplos and said, “Very well. I see no point in further delay – let’s away to Olympus. Nomia, take care and I will be back tomorrow.” Her voice carried with it no excitement and Hermes felt his gut twist.

After they had left, Nomia stood there, bringing a hand up to her mouth in contemplation before calling out, “Arethusa, are you around?” The shy nymph poked her head out from around the side of the house and looked around, ensuring Hermes was gone, before shuffling over. Nomia looked her over and said, “Tell me everything you know of the Underworld.” Arethusa wrinkled her brow, but nodded her head slowly. She wasn’t sure she was going to like this.

**************

Hades walked the familiar halls of Zeus’s grand palace, his mind otherwise occupied. He was excited and anxious to see Persephone again, their budding romance the only bright spot in his existence. The sooner he could meet with Zeus, the sooner he could spend time in the arms of his wife. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand and his mind inevitably replayed Hecate’s conversation in his head.

_Hades felt Hecate before he heard her. He was touring the borders of his realm when her presence intruded upon him. His fruitless conversation with Nyx and subsequent interaction with Minthe left him feeling raw and vulnerable. Before he could turn around, Hecate spoke up, “Hades, Circe is missing.”_

_His mouth set into a thin line and he turned around to face her. “So she’s fled.”_

_Hecate shook her head, “It’s worse than that. The enchanted beast men have all been slaughtered and her nymphs’ grove has been burned to the ground.”_

_He cursed and placed a hand on his brow for a moment. “Which means no witnesses. We have to find her.”_

_The crone nodded her head and said, “Agreed, but there’s not many about that could bind her. I could and perhaps a primordial, such as Nyx.”_

_Hades ran his hand along his short beard as he thought. “What was it that caught Aphrodite and Ares all those centuries ago? That golden net crafted by Hephaestus. Let me speak with him.”_

Hades had spent weeks searching for Hephaestus in vain. His workshops, scattered across the realm, were empty, save for the automatons who would heed the words only of the missing forge-god. This was now a conspiracy and if it weren’t so serious, Hades would laugh. Hephaestus was an unlikely character to stage a rebellion, but his absence likely meant he was involved in some way.

This was how he found himself in the doorway to Zeus’s chambers. Hades took a moment to observe his brother who stared out of a great window into the vast skies that surrounded Olympus. After a few minutes, the lightning god clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself unintelligibly. Hades had seen Zeus paranoid once before, when the other Olympians had staged a rebellion, but this was different, more extreme somehow.

“Zeus?” Hades called out, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

His brother jumped a little and whirled around to face his unexpected guest. His eyes were large, the whites visible around the entire iris and his mouth was agape. Hades watched as his brother’s features softened; this was the first time the king of the Underworld could remember anyone feeling relieved to see him. “Hades!” he exclaimed and then he rushed over and clutched his brother’s hands. “Hades, what brings you here, dear brother?”

Betraying none of his misgivings, Hades walked towards his brother and smirked, saying, “Have you forgotten already – the monthly marital visits you permit on Olympus?”

Zeus threw his arms up and breathed a sigh of relief, “Ah yes, the marital visits. It had completely slipped my mind.”

Hades was worried, but he kept his voice calm. “Indeed it has and I must confess that the time has passed quite slowly for me.”

Zeus laughed a little too vigorously and said, “I understand. Though I could counsel you on how best to remedy the between times, I doubt you would take me up on such extramarital activities.”

Hades could only shake his head even if he did smile slightly, grateful that he did not have the same terrible urges as his brother. “Indeed. Anyhow, I come to speak on a few matters.”

Zeus’s composure seemed to unwind a little at Hades’s phrasing, but he stated forcefully, “Speak it.”

Hades cocked his head to the side and said, “I need an instrument befitting a queen. I confess I am too busy to look exhaustively, but I have not found Hephaestus in his usual forges.”

The lightning god shrugged and said, “Well I imagine his absence to do with his recent activities with Aphrodite.”

_Aphrodite._ Internally Hades rolled his eyes, but he kept his tone even and light, “Well, it’s not urgent as Persephone will not return to the Underworld for a few months.”

Zeus nodded and clasped his hands behind his back to keep himself from wringing them. After a few moments of silence, Zeus began to feel himself wither under the impenetrable stare of Hades. Clearing his throat, he asked, “And the other matter?”

The king of the Underworld smiled and said, “I don’t want to alarm you, but there was an earthquake at Aitne a few weeks ago.” He expected Zeus to berate him for waiting weeks to alert him, but all he did was lean forward expectantly. Continuing, Hades said, “I investigated and found that Typhoeus is still asleep, bound to Tartarus.”

Zeus breathed out, nodding his head. “Well, then it seems there is nothing to worry about!”

Hades bowed his head and said, “It would seem so. Anyhow, dear brother, if you would be so accommodating as to let me see to my wife?” Zeus nodded once but said nothing more.

Retreating to the main hall, Hades looked around, the eerie silence of the cold marble halls more disturbing to him than the depths of Tartarus. Sighing, he reluctantly sought out the only other immortal who might understand what was happening to Zeus – Hera. Hades knew that she had led a previous rebellion, but he still found it hard to believe that she would do so again, not after she had been hung by her wrists from the heavens in Hephaestus’s impenetrable chains. 

He approached her chambers. She and Zeus did not even pretend to share a bed anymore, so infrequent were their couplings. Instead she maintained her own section of the palace where she tended to her duties, which mostly meant sending all sorts of cruel punishments to the mortal lovers of her fickle husband.

She was slumped on her side, her head resting precariously on the edge of her couch. Hades stood in the doorway of her chambers, hesitating. It seemed a violation to intrude upon her personal space and once again he was reminded of the way he grabbed Persephone from her home and pulled her into the dark Underworld. Exhaling a shaky breath, Hades called out softly, “Hera?”

She stirred a little but did not wake. He sighed; this was tiring. Walking forward, he wrapped his fingers around her small shoulder and shook her a little. Her brow furrowed and she moaned an unintelligible complaint before resting on her back and opening her eyes. It took Hera a moment to register the form of her eldest brother and when she did a cross look descended upon her fine features. “Hades? What do you want?”

He frowned and said, “Have you spoken with Zeus lately?”

“Yes, I –” She cut herself off looking around, as if confused, catching the sunlight through the gaps in the drapes. “It’s morning? I thought I was taking an afternoon nap.”

_No, no, no, this was definitely not good._ She started to close her eyes again, but Hades crouched down and grasped her hands. “Hera, I need you to sit up.”

Sensing the urgency in his words, Hera’s eyes opened again as she used his grip to help herself sit up. “I don’t know why I am so tired.”

Hades frowned and wondered if Hypnos was involved but immediately cast that aside. He _would_ need to speak with the sleep god about this, however. “Hera – Hera! Who else is here?”

Wrinkling her chin and squinting her eyes, she thought for a moment and then said, “You. I think just you.”

Hades was taken aback. Olympus was never this abandoned. He asked, “Are you sure? What about Apollo and Artemis?”

“They went hunting, I think.” 

“What of Hestia?” Hera’s eyes were closed again and Hades shook her hands when she didn’t respond. “Hera? Hera? Where is Hestia?”

“She went somewhere. A temple? Can’t remember.” Hades was baffled. No one was managing the estate and tending to Olympus’s hearth?

“Has Poseidon been around? Or Demeter?”

Hera groaned a ‘no’ and opened her eyes, the jealousy in her blood making her temporarily more alert. “You can tell that fucking shrew I’m glad Poseidon raped her.”

Ignoring her long-standing hatred for Demeter, Hades pressed on, “Aphrodite?” Hades choked on her name a bit.

There was a long pause and then she said, “She might be in her alcove.”

_Aphrodite again._ Sighing he asked her, “Where is Hephaestus?”

Hera’s eyes had drifted shut again, but she was still conscious, slowly shrugging before slurring, “Let me sleep.”

Hades let her rest back on her couch and then he turned and bolted out of her chambers towards the far-away guest room that he and Persephone had occupied once before. With little else to go on, he could only conclude that Aphrodite and Hephaestus were hatching a plan to overthrow Olympus. He had to meet with the other immortals as quickly as possible to ensure they hadn’t been ensnared by whatever dark magic Circe and Aphrodite had cooked up, but first he needed to reach Persephone and whisk her away from Olympus. It wasn’t safe there for her – or any immortal – anymore.

Reaching the door, he prayed he’d find her safe and well on the other side, but his stomach clenched as he assumed the worst. Slowly he pushed open the door and scanned the room, hitching his breath when he saw her sitting at the table by the windows, her forehead resting on her hands. She must have heard him running towards the room and opening the door and yet she made no movement to acknowledge him. Hades feared the worst, that whatever magic Circe had unleashed on Olympus had affected his sweet wife as well.

“Persephone?” She sniffled and he rushed towards her, kneeling next to her side. When she didn’t turn her face, he reached out a hand to her arm and tugged a little. Slowly, she lowered her arms and he could see from her profile that she had been crying for a long time. “What troubles you, my love?” he asked tenderly.

The words, so sweetly spoken, lanced her heart. It was enough to almost make Persephone believe the best in her husband, but she once again chided herself for her naivete and her weakness. She turned her head and examined his features (perhaps for the last time she thought): his thick black wavy hair she had enjoyed stroking; his short beard which was deliciously rough against her skin; his nearly black eyes which conveyed such desire and vulnerability; his strong and masculine nose and jaw which had nuzzled her intimately just a few weeks ago. Oh, how she wanted to hear him refute Minthe’s claims so she could cast herself into his arms!

Instead she adopted a cold look and Hades was visibly taken aback. She twisted her lips into a cruel smile as she remembered the hurtful words Minthe had hurled just before she’d stomped her out of existence. She tilted her head back so she was staring at him down the bridge of her nose and asked, “Tell me, Hades…” He shuddered at her use of his formal name. “…how long have you been betraying me with Minthe?”

Hades felt everything crumbling around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was tough to write - I wrote and re-wrote a few passages multiple times. 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts!
> 
> There's a lot more to go in this story!


	21. From Sky to Soil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades and Persephone have a very difficult conversation. 
> 
> Nomia drags a very unwilling Arethusa on a mission into the Underworld.

“Tell me, Hades…” He shuddered at her use of his formal name. “…how long have you been betraying me with Minthe?”

_How long have you been betraying me with Minthe?_

_Betray…Minthe…_

_Minthe…_

The question – the very mention of his former lover’s name – made his ichor cold. How did Persephone know about her? Did Minthe seek out Persephone only to spread her lies? Hades replied as calmly as he could, though his voice wavered a little, “I haven’t – wouldn’t – betray you.”

Persephone’s eyes bore into his as if to extract the truth for herself. Seemingly dissatisfied with his answer, she turned to face him completely, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Then tell me why she said otherwise. Why she _came_ to my home to tell me this.” Her eyes were pools of unshed tears and her voice was cold and low, a reflection of what she had learned living with her mother for so long. Angry shouting would only be met in kind and frankly, she didn’t have the energy to yell. 

Hades sighed and said, “Because she is unhappy. Unhappy that I never loved her. Unhappy that I wouldn’t make her my queen.”

Persephone scoffed, “So you admit she is your lover then?”

Hades shook his head, a sadness settling into his face that seemed to accentuate his features and age him. “No, but she was, long before I ever knew about you. I realized she was terrible and I left her, sent her back to the Cocytus. She was _not_ happy.” 

Persephone was unconvinced. Unfolding her arms, she turned to grasp a rolled letter from the window ledge behind her. Holding it up to Hades, she said, “Then tell me why you and she were laughing over this, over my willingness to believe your promise to be a good husband. Tell me why she had this letter?” 

Hades slowly pulled the letter from her hands and unrolled it, reading her simple sentence to him, the letter he had read so many times since she’d sent it. His hands went cold and numb and he nearly dropped it. Quickly he stood up and sat down in the chair across from her and held his head in his hands. He muttered to himself, “I should’ve known her for a thief…” and then snorted as he turned his head to look out of the window briefly. “I suppose she was biding her time, waiting for a moment to get back in my graces and when that failed, she came to you to sour my own happiness and make you hate me. She _stole_ that letter from my chambers.” His eyes met hers and he said gently, “She is everything you are not. She will use any means of trickery to get her way.”

The tears rolled down her face and Hades reached over to wipe them away, but she turned her head. It was ripping her up inside, his gentleness juxtaposed against his cruel infidelity. “So you were not together and yet she came to you after we were married – in your bedroom?”

Hades felt the sting of her rejection and slowly lowered his hand back to his side. Sadly, he nodded his head, saying, “A few weeks ago she tried to win me back, but I banished her from my castle forevermore.”

Persephone was incredulous. Did this god expect her to believe that anyone could walk into his chambers and take whatever was his? “How did she gain access to your bedroom?”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “You’ve been to my palace. You know I don’t keep it guarded. Who exists in the Underworld that would steal from its king? Since the criminals go to Tartarus, the Underworld is safer than the mortal realm. I confess I do not like to be watched constantly.”

Persephone sniffed and said, “Minthe, apparently, would steal from you, if I am to believe what you are saying.” She did think it odd that several weeks had passed since she transformed Minthe without Hades looking for her. Would he not miss his lover?

Hades leaned forward and said, “As soon as I am back in the Underworld, I will see to it that she is punished for her actions. These are serious crimes against the king and queen.”

Persephone furrowed her brow and asked incredulously, “You mean you have not seen her in two weeks?”

Hades shrugged and said, “I banished her from my palace. Why would I seek her out?” He dare not mention how little he had been in the Underworld in the last two weeks lest that fan the flames of her anger and solidify her belief that he was unfaithful.

Persephone wanted to believe him badly, but she was stuck. It was almost too easy, as if he’d planned an answer for every question she’d had. Of course he would lie to preserve his marriage, so he could have his wife for half of the year and his lover (or lovers!) for the other half. His brothers saw women as objects to be possessed – why would Hades be any different? The clipping of the plant in her byrsa burned in her mind, her hand itching to throw it in his face, but she wanted to understand the situation more. Revealing the plant would be her last statement.

Her face still cold, she asked, “Tell me, Hades, if she was so terrible, why did you have her as a lover?” Her eyes roamed his face, watching as his features shifted from sad to irritated.

“Aphrodite,” he spat out. “She leant Minthe her girdle to tempt me. It worked.” He shrugged emphatically and said, “I was long alone and desirous of company. I had no intention of making her my wife, but she crept in, trying to gain more power from me. I-I confess I do not like this story because I feel unkind in it.” He watched her eyes, but they did not soften. Continuing, he said, “When my lust for her was sated, I was finally able to see how she had made others miserable, treating the judges and Hecate poorly. She tried to rule from my bedroom and I simply couldn’t have that. So I cast her off.”

Persephone raised a questioning hand and asked, “Why didn’t you warn me about her?”

“Persephone, it had been years since I’d seen her. Why should I bring her up?”

“Well, she clearly never stopped loving you,” the spring goddess said bitterly.

“She never loved me,” Hades said simply. “Minthe is unhappy living in the Cocytus. It is a miserable river and its king, for which the river is named, is very old – older than me. I rarely interact with him, but on the occasions I have, have been witness to how he treats his daughters. He does not love them or treat them well at all. That’s why she wanted to leave. I was just a means for her to get there.”

Persephone felt her defenses wearing down, the urge to believe him greater than the doubt in her head, yet she clung to that doubt to preserve her wounded heart. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the piece of plant, the remnant of Minthe, and gently laid it down on the table in front of Hades. He looked down at it and then back up at her, arching a brow, but saying nothing.

Persephone folded her hands and stared straight into Hades’s eyes when she said, “I thought it strange that no one came looking for Minthe. I figured you might not have known where she’d gone. Or perhaps that you have many lovers and do not keep track.” His eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, but he resisted the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of her statements; that would only anger her, he thought. 

The goddess waited for him to respond, her eyes boring into him to once again mine for the truth, and when he didn’t, she continued, “I thought it strange that no one would care that I turned her into this plant.”

Hades was taken aback before erupting into laughter. “What a fitting ending! You really turned her into this plant?” Slowly, he reached for it, hesitating before finally picking it up and examining it.

Persephone was confused. She expected him to be horrified at her act of violence, or angry that his lover was no more, or disappointed for such petty revenge. She did not expect him to laugh; did he truly not care for the nymph who had once shared his bed? Would he tire of her too? Why couldn’t Persephone let herself be happy? “You’re not upset?”

He calmed his laughter and said, “Not at all. I told you, she was terrible and I think it fitting you judged her for her crimes.” He brought the plant up to his nose and inhaled, saying, “This is Minthe, for sure.”

Persephone suddenly stood up, but braced herself on the table for a moment before turning and dashing to the bathroom behind her. Alarmed Hades followed her, but stopped just short of entering when he heard her dry heaving into the wash bin. She did not vomit, but a sheen of sweat covered her brow. He leaned against the doorway and examined her. 

Finally, Persephone walked up to him and said, “I spent the last two weeks convinced that you would stray, that you would ridicule me behind my back. It’s hard to get past that.”

Hades raised a tentative hand to her face. When she didn’t pull back, he gently caressed her cheek and said, “I would never stray. I would never ridicule you.” Cupping her face with both hands, he pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “I love you too much to hurt you.”

Tears spilled down her face. She thought she might forgive him, but she wasn’t ready to be intimate with him again; she was too raw and vulnerable to expose herself further.

Pulling away, she looked up at him and said, “I’ve cried so much, I’m surprised I have any tears left.”

Hades felt a stabbing pain in his heart to think that anyone had inflicted such misery on his wife. “Come with me to the Underworld for the night.”

She shook her head. “My mother would know if I did. Besides, I’m-I’m not ready yet.”

“Not ready?” he asked softly.

Persephone wrapped her arms around her body and said, “I cannot describe it. My mind knows what you said was the truth, but my body has not caught up. I feel ill and spent and…and….I just want to go home.”

Hades frowned. _Home_ was apparently Demeter’s estate. “OK, well I can escort you back there, if you like.”

Persephone said, “And have my mother find out? No, I’ll ask Hermes.”

His jaw clenched, but he would not press her on it. “Very well then, my queen.” He reached down to grasp her hands and kissed both of them. “I look forward to seeing you again in the hopes that seeing me will make you happy.”

Persephone nodded, overcome with emotion again. What was wrong with her? Why was the urge to cry so strong? She turned to make her way to the door then suddenly turned around and threw her arms around Hades, hugging him tightly. He embraced her, rubbing a hand up and down her back as if to sooth her. Finally, she let him go and walked away, not wanting to dwell on goodbyes. 

He finally remembered his original fear and called out to her just as she reached the door. “Persephone!”

She turned her head and waited, her hand on the knob.

“Strange things are afoot. I have witnessed the effects of dark magic recently and I fear a plan is unwinding something terrible against the immortals. I wish I could bring you to the Underworld with me – you would be safest there – but I know that is not possible. I trust you to keep this to yourself. You cannot speak of it to anyone – not Hermes and not Demeter.”

Persephone nodded her head and said, “I understand.” She was too worn out to consider the import of his words and merely drifted out of the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Hades slumped against the wall and finally, after hundreds of years, let a tear fall, hot and salty on his lips. Despite convincing his wife that he had not strayed, he still felt lost and hopeless.

**************

“I think we should turn back and let our lady handle it herself.”

Rolling her eyes, Nomia cajoled, “How can you be so indifferent to her suffering? Besides, did you not tell me that you crossed this very path to get here when you fled from – ”

Arethusa held up a hand and said, “Do not utter his name to me.” Flustered, she blew a loose strand of hair out of her face and gestured to the stream that gently flowed out of a cave, its peaceful meander a stark contrast to the horror the river nymph was painting. “And yes, I did travel through the Underworld to get here. I do not think you understand what that means. I nearly lost myself here. It is a terribly lonely place, dark and filled with all sorts of monsters.”

Nomia crossed her arms and eyed her companion up and down. “I thought Ha – ”

“Shh…do not say his name either.”

Sighing, Nomia said, “Fine. I thought the Unseen One kept the monsters locked up in Tartarus, which isn’t where we’re going, now is it?”

“No,” Arethusa grudgingly acknowledged.

“We’re just going to slip in and slip out. Ha – I mean the Unseen One – won’t even know we were there.”

Arethusa exhaled a breath and said, “You do realize you could die there? You’re a forest nymph, not meant for the Underworld.”

“That’s why you’re not going to let go of my hand. So long as I keep with you, your powers should protect me from death.”

Shaking her head, the river nymph exclaimed, “You’re very flippant about this whole thing. I don’t think you realize the seriousness of what you’re suggesting.”

Nomia shrugged and said, “Let’s just get moving. We should try to get back before our lady returns from Olympus.”

“You have the plant?” Arethusa asked. Nomia nodded and then the river nymph grabbed her hand and let her power course over them. Shortly they appeared as if water themselves and flowed into the river, swimming against the current down, down, into the Underworld.

Once they emerged on the other side, they looked around in the gloomy, dimly lit Underworld. “Do you know the way to the Cocytus from here?” Nomia asked. Arethusa was looking around, trying to orient herself again. Nomia had spent the better part of the morning grilling her on the geography of the Underworld, going over all the places where nymphs lived. Arethusa knew she was a river nymph and the only river which had nymphs was the Cocytus, so Nomia had decided that they should start there.

Arethusa suddenly tugged Nomia, eager to get to this whole ordeal over with. Traveling through the Underworld to save yourself from a fate worse than death was not the same thing as willingly entering it on a whim of curiosity, which is what Arethusa saw this as. They had no idea if they’d find anything there, but Nomia was insistent that Hermes had something to do with it.

They walked awhile, passing by the confluence of the fiery Phlegethon and the icy Cocytus. A little hut stood in the distance and Nomia observed an elderly woman exiting the structure. “Who is that?”

Arethusa’s eyes were wide as she said, “Do not look at her. That is Hecate and her magic is powerful and terrible.” Tugging her companion’s hand, they began to jog along the Cocytus to put distance between themselves and the goddess of witchcraft. 

Behind them, Hecate smiled and shook her head. She sensed Persephone’s powers radiating off of them, which is what had drawn her out of her shack; while she was interested in their adventure in the Underworld, she was not curious enough to stop them. Based on their path, she suspected it had something to do with a certain nymph of the Cocytus who used to share Hades’s bed and could only hope that they were successful in whatever mission they had planned.

Finally they stopped to catch their breath and Arethusa said, “I guess here is as good as any place. Toss it in!” Nomia fished the little plant clipping out – a piece of the vigorous weed Minthe had become – and flung it into the river.

They sat down on the bank, ignoring the wailing shades that walked around them. After several minutes, nymphs began to surface, swimming back and forth in front of them. “What is happening?” Nomia asked.

“They are talking to themselves, but I cannot understand their language. It’s very particular sounding.”

Several nymphs surfaced to their waists and spoke to each other, looking down at the clipping which floated on the surface between them, and over at the two nymphs huddled together on the banks.

“They look angry,” Arethusa said. 

“Well, wouldn’t you be if you found out your sister was dead? They probably think we did it,” Nomia responded and her companion shuddered.

One of the nymphs picked up the little plant in her fingers, as if it were poison and swam to the bank. She asked, her tone serious, “Is this who I think it is?”

Solemnly, Nomia and Arethusa nodded their heads.

The Underworld nymph looked back to her sisters and said something to them and they responded. Turning back, she said, “And why have you come?”

Nomia responded, “Because she committed a grievous crime against the queen of the Underworld for which she paid with her life. But we suspect – ”

“You, Nomia, _you_ suspect,” Arethusa interrupted, her voice firm, never taking her eyes off of the strange Underworld nymphs in front of her.

“ _Fine._ _I_ suspect that someone put the idea in her head.” When she was finished speaking, the nymphs in the back let out a strange sound that she belatedly realized was laughter. Wrinkling her chin, she looked over at Arethusa, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of the nymphs, and whispered, “I think they’re laughing.” Her companion did not respond.

The Underworld nymph on the bank returned to her sisters and spoke a little before the group split up, swimming in different directions. They waited for a while, hoping for something, but when nothing happened, Arethusa said, “I suggest we start back and count ourselves lucky that they did not tear us apart.”

“Oh hush, they would not harm us, not knowing that our lady was the queen of the Underworld.”

Arethusa arched an eyebrow and said, “You say that as if it would protect you. No one knows we’re here, Nomia. We could die here and never be found, our essences spread into the dark depths of the Underworld.” With that, they began their long walk back to the land of the living, but did not get far before something cold and wet landed just behind them.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the Underworld nymph called out, her face no less serious than before. They looked down at the lyre and Arethusa bent to pick it up. “She always thought she was better than us,” the Underworld nymph said flatly. And with that, she and the rest of her sisters were gone, sinking back into the icy depths of the wailing river.

They looked over the lyre and then at each other. Shrugging, they resumed their walk back, anxious to share their find with their lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit:
> 
> I forgot to post a link before. I imagine this is what Persephone was feeling when she was about to confront Hades.
> 
> https://youtu.be/3LC5R3_d_Mg
> 
> Anyhow, it is a beautiful song by a band I've followed for a while.


	22. Temporary Hiatus

Dear Readers,

I am preparing for Nanowrimo. I am aiming to get one more chapter of this story out before I switch to my NaNo story on Nov 1.

I am NOT abandoning this story. I'm so excited for what I have planned. Unfortunately, I cannot commit to it during November.

Thank you all for reading. I will be back as soon as possible. If you want to be alerted when I post again, please consider subscribing. \--LTTP


	23. Decisions Made and Consequences Earned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birth of a goddess is complete.
> 
> The Athenian ruling elite make a decision regarding the Persians, who are advancing towards Athens.
> 
> Hermes takes Persephone back to Enna early. Nomia and Arethusa are surprised to find them back so soon.

_“What is my name?” she asked as everything began to crumble around her, desperate for one last memory of her mother. Smiling, she pulled the young goddess down close, her voice unable to reach more than a whisper and uttered her name._

_She was then being pulled away, a force greater than she could imagine emanating from her, driving her towards an escape she couldn’t have imagined. When she looked back, there was nothing where her mother had lain. Was any of it real?_

_Overwhelmed by a bright light, she closed her eyes and then felt herself fall over. Behind her, she heard the pained cries of another as a set of strong and rough hands wrapped around her arms and hoisted her up awkwardly. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking to adjust her vision to the light._

_Behind her, the agonizing cries receded as she heard a voice finally say, “What a strange thing – wait, do not move yet. I am still trying to heal your head.”_

_The first thing she saw were the hands on her arms. Looking up, she saw the haggard and scarred face of a man sitting in a wheeled chair. Although frightening in appearance, his eyes were kind and he smiled at her, asking in a voice far softer and gentler than she would have imagined, “Goddess, are you well?”_

_“I-I think so.”_

_He released her arms and wheeled away to fetch his ichor-stained hammer. “Do you have a name?” he asked as he wiped his implement clean._

_Behind her, a rough and deep voice said, “She came from me –_ I _shall name her.” Spinning around, she came face to face with a large, golden god, a pained look on his face as another one finished wrapping his head in bandages. “Thank you, Paeon, for your assistance. Now please leave.” Nodding, the smaller god scurried away._

_“That is not necessary,” she said with authority. “I have a name and it is Athena.”_

_He was momentarily taken aback, but then slowly a smile crept up his lips, seemingly proud of his first offspring. He nodded his head in assent and said, “Very well, dear Athena, I am Zeus, your father and king of the sky and all immortals.”_

**************

The last few weeks had been agony for Alcippe as her engagement to Halirrhothios had been formally announced. This did not go unnoticed by Aglauros, who mourned for her daughter, or Megacles, who could not understand her reaction to such a good match. He chose not to think on it too much as he had more pressing matters at hand, specifically, the meeting in which he now found himself, hoping that his prayers to Athena would be answered.

She had come to him months ago after his devoted praying to her. The goddess of wisdom had told him she knew all in his heart and agreed with him. She would assist in rebuilding Athens once the existing ruling elite were eliminated. And Athena had indeed done her part. She had conferred with the military leaders – the strategoi – on Persia’s impending invasion. As the goddess of wisdom, it was her role to help the mortals seek their own path by encouraging them to think logically rather than react quickly. As the eldest child of Zeus and presumptive heir, though no such title truly existed amongst the immortals, it was her duty to act in the best interest of her brethren, even if they did not always understand what that meant. 

It was up to the mortals now to determine the next course of action.

Inside the Agora’s Strategeion* eleven men sat, the ten military elite and their elected leader, the Polemarch, Callimachus. The tension was as thick as the humidity in the air, heavy and oppressive. Callimachus sighed and closed his eyes briefly, but otherwise said nothing.

Finally Miltiades, older and weathered by previous conflicts but no less energetic than a young soldier, cleared his throat and said, “We ten are of divided opinion. I tell you that if we do nothing, great misery will descend upon us, but if we attack now, we can win the battle, if ever the gods were fair.” He paused for a moment to gauge the reaction of the Polemarch, but his face was as stone, unwilling to betray his thoughts. Finishing, he said, “Callimachus it is now in your hands to enslave Athens or make her free!”**

The generals each turned their gazes from Miltiades to Callimachus. His mouth was but a thin line, his eyes hard and sharp, like the tip of a spear. Standing, he placed his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward. Briefly, he looked up, as if to receive a message directly from Zeus or Athena, and then dropped his head, saying, “Who are we if, in embracing peace, we embrace our cultural death? Do we not owe it to ourselves and our descendants to preserve our ways? I confess, I did have a certain fear – not of death, for one life is small – but for defeat. I cannot indulge this fear any longer, for to do so is to root myself to inaction. No, you are right Miltiades – Athens must remain ours, Athens must remain free!”

**************

Hermes’s steely countenance, atypical for the lighthearted messenger god, reflected the agony he felt inside at his involvement in injuring Persephone. She had rushed to him, finding him in Aphrodite’s alcove, and practically ripped him from his conversation to take her back home. He hadn’t even had a chance to meet with Zeus yet. That was another thing that bothered him – the way that his father was behaving was very strange indeed.

Their trip had been mostly silence, a tension filling the space between them, and Hermes felt awkward holding her. He wanted to hold her and love her, but not like this, not with the memory of his treachery burning in his head. Telling her wasn’t an option though as the prospect of losing her entirely was too much for him to accept. Instead, he told himself that Hades and Persephone would get past Minthe, especially if she was as horrid to them as she was to him. All that they needed was a bit of time.

Landing just in the clearing, Persephone dusted herself off and then looked to him, her usually-bright eyes dimmed. Quietly, she asked, “Are you hungry? You may help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. I am sorry for making you take me back so soon as I am sure you had business to attend to with Zeus. I hope he won’t be angry.” She stood there, like clothes draped over a line, arms dangling at her sides and her shoulders slumped.

Hermes ran a hand up and down the back of his head and refused to make eye-contact, saying, “It’s no problem. Sure, I’ll take something.” As he walked away, he tacked on a too-loud and cheerful, “Thanks!”

Persephone felt a little dazed. Internally, she chided herself for letting her emotions control her. Why was she upset anymore? Hades had convinced her that he was faithful; he had not wronged her and there was nothing to forgive. The spring goddess wondered if the sheltered life her mother had provided had permanently damaged her ability to handle these sorts of relationship issues. 

Sitting down on a log, she took a few deep breaths and tried to pull herself up and out of her funk because dwelling on this simply wouldn’t work for Persephone anymore. If she were an amphora, all that was left at the bottom was the spoilt dregs, a sludge of vinegar. She needed a way to restore herself and belatedly regretted running away so quickly. If Persephone had stayed just a little longer and let herself calm down, maybe she would have found that replenishment in the arms of her husband. 

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of Hermes emerging from the house. He walked towards her and sat next to her, finishing off a fig. The silence was painful and so Hermes did what he did not want to do. He asked, “Persephone, what troubles you?”

Sadly she shook her head and said, “I might’ve made a terrible mistake. I don’t like the way I handled – ” Cutting herself off, Persephone looked over at him. She didn’t want to give too much away lest he spoil the monthly visits for her permanently. Though she loved him as a brother, the spring goddess knew that the messenger god couldn’t be trusted completely; after all, he was also the god of thieves. “I don’t like the way I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. Especially with others.”

He shrugged, affecting a friendly demeanor that belied the agony he felt inside, “We’re none of us perfect, despite what some on Olympus might think. We all make mistakes.” Persephone looked over at him, her eyes meeting his, confused by the pleading look she found there. He took in a deep breath and said, “Our only hope is that those who we have entrusted with our friendship can see past our faults and forgive. Forgiveness is the hope by which I live.” Then, in a flash, the vulnerability was gone and a roguish smile reappeared, “Besides, I _am_ known to cause trouble every now and then. Without forgiveness, I’d probably be strung up by Apollo or Ares somewhere for my mischief.” Or Tartarus, he thought but did not dare utter. 

Nodding slowly, Persephone dared to smile a little. “Always my big brother is there to say something to make me feel better.” She hugged him tightly and he returned it, wishing for more and hoping that it wouldn’t be the last. Resting a head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes for a moment attempting to let the peace of the moment enter her heart and calm her. 

A rustling in the woods along with two voices drew Persephone’s attention and she raised her head to watch as Nomia and Arethusa walked out into the clearing. They were dirty, shivering and wet. Arethusa clutched something close to her chest, partly obscured by the folds of her robes and immediately stopped walking when she saw Persephone with Hermes. Nomia’s face went blank, but she did not stop walking despite Arethusa’s quiet call to her. 

As they approached, Persephone arched a brow and called out, “And where have you two gotten off to?”

“The Underworld,” Nomia said, her calm tone belying her feelings.

Hermes jumped up and said, “Persephone, I should leave. I have duties to attend to.” He eyed Arethusa behind Nomia. 

The entire situation was odd to Persephone and after Minthe’s visit, she was not in a mood to entertain any oddness. Standing up, she placed her hand on her hips and said, “Just wait a minute, Hermes.” Turning to Arethusa, she said, “Come forward! What’s going on here? Why were you in the Underworld?” 

Arethusa would not speak, so Nomia jumped in. “My lady, we traveled there to visit with the river nymphs.”

Hermes looked uncomfortable and said, “I really must be going.”

Persephone looked at him and wrinkled her brow, saying, “Please, just a few minutes.” Looking back at Nomia, she said, “And exactly why did you want to meet with river nymphs from the Underworld?” Minthe swirled through her brain, inflaming her already bad mood.

“To understand why that creature did what she did, my lady. You were suffering and we –”

“You, Nomia,” Arethusa interrupted, “You had questions.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Fine, yes, _I_ had questions about her motivations. It all seemed so strange. So Arethusa guided me there and we talked to her sisters.” She shrugged afterwards, wondering if Persephone would let it go until Hermes left. Nomia was not one to avoid conflict, but she would’ve preferred to give the lyre to her lady in private.

“And?” Persephone asked, tapping a foot. She wasn’t mad at any one person, just irritated in general. She looked over at Hermes who looked ill, but said nothing.

Sighing, Nomia called over her shoulder, “Arethusa, can you show her?”

The nymph nodded her head and meekly handed over the lyre to Persephone who looked it over, asking, “And what does this mean? Is this Apollo’s lyre? Why would they have it?”

Nomia said quietly, “We were hoping it might make sense to you. They didn’t tell us anything really – just threw this lyre at us.”

Shaking her head, Persephone said, “This doesn’t make any sense to me. What does Apollo have to do with Minthe?”

A little sound, somewhere between a cry and a groan escaped Hermes and the goddess snapped her head to his attention. He cleared his throat and said, “It-it’s not Apollo’s lyre. It’s mine.”

“ _Yours?”_ Persephone asked, clutching it hard in her hand. Her voice began to rise, “And why would Minthe have had _your_ lyre?”

“B-because I lost it down there,” he said without looking up from the ground.

Persephone narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Come now, brother, think you I am fool-born?” Around them the plant life began to grow at an unnatural speed. When he hesitated to answer, she shook her head again and threw the lyre with all of her might at the ground, around which sprung vines clutching it tightly to the soil.

Arethusa backed up during the conversation and started to quietly slip away. Nomia looked between Persephone and Hermes saying nothing, waiting to be dismissed and wondering if she should just follow her friend.

Persephone looked at Hermes and saw him – truly saw him – as someone who was not her brother. She had to ask the question, though she sadly already knew the answer. “Why?” she whispered, rage having taken her voice from her.

Nomia was already nearly back to the woods and Arethusa was out of sight. 

Hermes lifted his head, tears in his eyes, “I-I am sorry. I was desperate for you. I never meant to fall in love with you. I agonized over what to do and then that _beast_ just spirited you away.” He reached a hand out to her shoulder, but she backed away from his touch.

Persephone snorted and threw her hands up in the air, at a loss for words. She turned her back to him for a long time, thinking about how Hades had been jealous of Hermes and how she had made excuses for him, calling him her brother. How naïve she had been! Coldly, she asked, “And what was your little plan?”

He groaned and said, “There was no plan. I went to her – Fates, I do not know what I’d hoped to accomplish going to her. I just had this stupid hope that you might want me when you were above ground, especially if Hades were to take back his old lover.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, Persephone turned around and stared at him as if he had three heads. “Go,” she said, finding her voice again, “and do not come back. You are not my brother.” 

Hermes felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest and he had no one to blame but himself. Friendless and loveless, he turned and hopped once as his sandals took flight, carrying him away.

Back on the ground, she watched him fly away, thinking she might cry again at the situation, but Persephone found that she had no more tears to shed. She was angry without sadness. She wanted to run through the fields of Enna until her feet were sore and the flowers were thick and tall. She wanted to kill things just to watch them grow again. She wanted to use Hades’s bident skewer any being which would manipulate her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Strategeion – a meeting room, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strategeion  
> **Adapted from Herodotus, The Histories, Book 6 (tufts.edu), http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:abo:tlg,0016,001:6
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! We're getting closer to the Battle of Marathon and I'm so excited to write that. 
> 
> PS, I hope you didn't find the excerpts in italics confusing. It was meant to show something which happened in the past, removed from current events.


	24. The Children of Poseidon and Zeus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halirrhothios travels to Sparta to determine their intentions as the Persians come closer to Athens. He has a strange encounter with a seemingly-sentient horse.
> 
> Hermes returns to Olympus and runs into Apollo. They have an interesting conversation.
> 
> Athena and Ares survey Athens from the Acropolis and ponder the city's fate as the Persians draw close.
> 
> The Battle of Marathon is in about a week.

He was tall, muscular, and handsome, the epitome of masculine beauty to the Athenians. Well-liked by the elites, especially Megacles, he had amassed wealth. He was an excellent warrior, skilled in the use of many weapons. He was also cracked and broken inside, a youth who bragged of his value to cover the utter worthlessness he felt inside. He was the son of a god, but was also mortal, to his utter disappointment. He was Halirrhothios. All he would ever achieve in his life would be for naught once he crossed the Styx into his uncle’s realm.

When he came of age, Halirrhothios had decided to align himself with Megacles. Impressed by the youth’s training on the field, Megacles had struck a friendship up with the demigod with the intention that he would marry his daughter to him should things go their way. Halirrhothios, for his part, had done all he could to ensure that Megacles, acting under the guidance of Athena, was successful in their plan. 

He longed for the day he could marry Alcippe. Life was easy for Halirrhothios, posing few obstacles, yet she was ever the challenge to him. The daughter of a powerful leader who held no interest in joining the ranks of Athenian elite women was odd indeed. And while it was a mystery to him why she had rebuffed him in the past, the sweet resolution was almost in his grasp. 

Thusly preoccupied, he sat astride his horse, riding back from Sparta, where he had gone to understand Sparta’s intentions towards the rising threat of Persia at the urging of Megacles. Certainly the Spartans wanted to assist – many in Athens did not believe success was possible without help from their more militant brothers – but the timing was poor as they were in the middle of a religious festival which they would not abandon and so Sparta would not send help for two weeks. At least, that was what Halirrhothios had been informed when he’d arrived earlier in the week.

Now, Halirrhothios found himself in the outskirts of Arcadia in central Peloponnese. The sound of horse hooves behind him drew him from his thoughts and he looked back to see a black stallion approaching, running very fast without a rider. It must be a wild horse, he thought, and pulled over to the side to avoid a collision. As it approached, he realized that the horse was the largest he’d ever seen and while its mane was black, its coat was of the darkest maroon. Truly a beautiful and majestic creature! As it approached, the horse slowed down to a trot until it finally stopped next to Halirrhothios, staring at him with the most human looking eye possible in a horse. His horse, in response, became restless and bucked a little. Then it was gone, taking off towards a bend in the road, and out of sight. It was a strange encounter, but he would not dwell on it.

Far from civilization, he thought he heard a deep masculine voice calling out, “Son of Poseidon.” He shook his head and looked around, but saw nothing. Continuing on, he rounded a bend in the road and entered into an open clearing with a hill on one side.

At the top of a hill the horse from before stood beside a young woman. Oddly, he realized that the woman had nearly-black hair that shone dark-maroon in the light, like the horse. He didn’t stop riding, but kept his eyes on the pair as he passed, nodding to them, but they did not react, merely staring. Grunting, he looked ahead once again, eager to move past the strange scene.

The voice came again, “Son of Poseidon.” 

This time he stopped his horse and looked at the woman and her companion. They stood there, side by side at the top of the hill merely staring at him. He felt odd, as if the voice he had heard was now in his head searching for a response. Inside he felt cold, but outside he felt flushed, as if he had been overwhelmed with sickness. He breathed measured breaths, in and out, trying to calm his racing heart as the voice seemed to probe his mind for answers to questions that were beyond words, questions that were at the most basic level of thought.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he felt better. Looking over at the hill again, the horse and the woman were gone. Wasting no more time and eager to put that strange episode behind him, Halirrhothios urged his horse forward. They had many miles to cross to get back to Athens.

Long after the Athenian had left the strange scenario behind him, the horse appeared on the crest of the hill again and then took off on the same path towards Athens. Never had he traveled beyond the borders of Arcadia before, never to seek out the mother who did not want him nor the father who did not care. Content with his sister, he had no urge to establish relationships with his other siblings, until he sensed one passing through his home. The initial communication had been…disappointing; when he probed the inner thoughts of his brother, he felt nothing but ugliness. He was unsettled enough to follow him back to Athens – from a distance – and observe how his plans might unfold.

His brother may be Halirrhothios, vain demigod son of Poseidon, but he was Arion, immortal horse and son of Demeter and Poseidon.

**************

Hermes didn’t remember flying back to Olympus. He was numb and his mind cloudy whilst his heart pounded with grief, or was that remorse? Perhaps both. He was wrong and could blame no other. To whom could he talk? Thanatos and Hypnos had warned him. Ares was in Athens and Apollo, well he wasn’t someone he was keen to share his heart with. They were close in ways, but when it came to Persephone, Apollo had teased him mercilessly about being man enough for a woman such as she. _“You’ve spent much time with Kore when she was a child - think you to hand-raise your future lover? Is that the way of it, Hermes, eh? Are you like Pygmalion, only content with a woman made by your own hands? Well let me tell you, Kore is no statue and will not be content to be led about by her creator.”_

Never were truer words spoken. Hermes may have guided Kore when she was young, but she was no longer that goddess anymore. She had evolved to become Persephone dual-natured goddess of spring and the dead. He realized just how much he hated himself in that moment as he landed at the gates of Olympus and took in the impressive palace of Zeus.

Ah, Zeus. Hermes had witnessed a strange change in his father over the last few weeks, unsettled by his slide into isolation and paranoia. He had seen such an event before after Zeus had been betrayed by Hera, Poseidon, and Athena. For months afterwards he trusted no one, kept to himself, only slowly daring to share his thoughts with the other Olympians. Hermes could understand such a reaction then, but what could have happened recently to have caused it to resurge in his father? 

Hermes walked the familiar halls of the palace, unnerved by the eerie silence and the loud echo of his winged sandals on the cool marble floor. Making his way towards Aphrodite’s alcove, he was stopped by a deliberate cough behind him. He turned around to face the last person he wished to see – Apollo.

Leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, the handsome god of music and light examined Hermes for a moment and then said, “And what has you in such a foul mood this day, dear brother?”

  
Hermes raised a hand and said, “As much as I would love to trade barbs with you, I am in no mood to share my heart. Besides, why are you even here? Last we spoke, you and Artemis were going off hunting.”

Arching a brow, he said, “Well, my duties as god of medicine called me back.”

Hermes shrugged and asked, “And what does that mean?”

Apollo walked forward and placed a hand on Hermes shoulder, gripping it somewhat hard, and said, “Come, let’s away to a more private place to talk.”

It was Hermes’s turn to arch his brow, but he said nothing and simply followed his brother to a small room off of the main hall. Closing the door behind them, Apollo stood for a moment, as if thinking on how best to broach the subject. Hermes could guess the topic and he began to feel restless, the wings on his sandals fluttering a bit in response.

“Father is ill.”

“I know,” Hermes said solemnly.

Shrugging, Apollo said, “I assumed so, since you two are so close. I came back to see if I could determine the nature of his illness.” 

The pause stretched out between them, and Hermes impatiently asked, “And?”

Clearing his throat, Apollo said, “It’s powerful magic and there is nothing I can do to heal him.”

Hermes frowned and said, “I do not know who could do such a thing to him.”

Apollo sat down on a couch gracelessly and leaned back, throwing an arm over his head. He still struggled to muster the energy to attend his duties, all love of his existence snuffed out when his lover, Hyacinthus, died. “One of his siblings, perhaps. Hera is the obvious choice, perhaps too obvious.”

“Poseidon?”

Apollo chuckled, “I hardly think so. He’s far too content and hardly level-headed enough to plan anything of the sort. Remember, he didn’t even want to be part of the first rebellion.”

Hermes sat down on the floor a little back from Apollo, kicking off his sandals and crossing his legs. “Demeter then?”

“Not an unreasonable guess. She’s an angry one and hates all of us.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hermes groused.

Apollo dropped his arm and examined his brother out of the corner of his eye. Smirking a little, he said, “Trouble in paradise?”

Hermes shook his head and said, “Anyhow, Demeter is a possibility. What about Hades?”

“The Unseen One? You really think he cares of the goings-on of the Olympians? Come now, his realm is the largest, by far; all of the wealth in the land is his; and on his arm is the beautiful goddess of spring. What desire could he have for Olympus?”

Hermes looked off and pondered a moment, then cleared his head and said, “Perhaps he is tired of the gloom of the underworld. He has powerful allies as well – Hecate, for one. And he is cunning, as some would say.”

Apollo sat up and rubbed his chin a moment and then responded, “When you say it, it makes sense, but I don’t feel it is right. Even if Hades is the most powerful of Zeus’s siblings, I don’t think he’s motivated enough. You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t see eye to eye with you on this one.” Crossing a leg over his knee and leaning back, he looked up at the ceiling as if to work through a puzzle. “There is something we are missing.”

“Well I definitely don’t think Hestia is involved – or Hephaestus,” Hermes said matter-of-factly.

“Oh I definitely agree there. Where are they, by the way? It’s not like Hestia to leave Olympus for so long. Who is tending to the hearth? Her nymphs? And Hephaestus has been gone for quite a bit, though I understand he dislikes his mother and finds Olympus trying.”

Hermes shrugged and looked down at his lap. “What of your sister, Artemis?”

Laughing, he said, “I couldn’t even fathom that. She cares only for the hunt. You are a smart-ass indeed for questioning my twin directly to my face.”

Hermes shrugged again and said, “I thought we were going through the list of all Olympians?”

There was a pregnant pause and Hermes thought his brother might get up and simply walk away, but instead Apollo sighed and said, “Very well then, what of Aphrodite?” There was a knowing little smirk on his face.

Hermes snapped his head back to his brother and said sharply, “She is not a betrayer.”

Apollo was taken aback by the messenger god’s indignant tone. Smiling a little, he asked, “And you would vouch for her? You know her innocence how exactly?”

“I just do. Besides, how do we know _you’re_ not involved?” Hermes asked defensively.

Raising a hand, the god of medicine smiled a little and said, “I guess we don’t, do we? But let’s assume for the moment that one of us is. What would be my motivation? And would I be strong enough?”

“You are…I don’t know. I mean, I can guess those you would dislike – Zephyr, for killing your lover, and Hades, for keeping his soul.” Apollo winced a little and Hermes had the decency to look ashamed of his comment. “I’m sorry, brother. I should not have brought it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Apollo said, “Your words were graceless but hardly wrong. I am still angry about that, but there is nothing to be done. Hades does not bend in the application of his rules. Dead is dead and I’m more the fool for ever loving a mortal such as I did. And to answer my question, I am not strong or desirous enough to take on father. I am loved by the mortals. I have many temples and followers. I enjoy my role, even if I could wish for a partner to share my existence.” Walking over to a window, he looked out at the vast blue sky of Olympus, it’s beauty never ceasing to marvel even if a shadow seemed to be crossing its path. Running a hand through his curly golden locks, he said, “That leaves only a handful more: Ares, Athena – and you.”

“Me?” Hermes said with a laugh. “If you are not powerful enough, surely one as young as I am neither. Besides, father loves me.”

“Hmmm…yes that is true, father does seem to have a soft spot for you, though I cannot fathom why. Your tricks and sharp tongue are tiresome,” Apollo said, half-amused.

“It’s very different for our brother, Ares. He and father hate each other.”

“True, but he’s impulsive. He does not scheme.”

“Athena is a schemer,” Hermes said simply, standing and walking up next to his brother to stare out of the window.

Apollo clasped his hands behind his back and said, “Aye and the smartest of us all.”

It was Hermes’s turn to rub his chin. “And what would be her motivation?”

“The same as last time? Frankly, I never understood why she wanted to overthrow father the first time. He loves her unconditionally – even still after she orchestrated his imprisonment. He only forgave Hera and Poseidon because he was compelled to do so when he forgave his daughter. She can do no wrong in his eyes. Were he to cease being the king of the gods, she would become the next to rule.”

Hermes felt his brother’s words resonate through his body, the implications of those simple facts washing over him with a wave of nausea. He looked over at Apollo and said, “Well, that’s it then, isn’t it? She wants to rule Olympus.”

Turning his head slowly, Apollo’s amber eyes pierced straight into Hermes’s heart. “Do you truly believe that, brother?”

They had moved beyond simple observations to the fringes of accusation and a hard lump grew in his throat to put a name to such betrayal. “I-I do not know, Apollo. But it seems to me that if she did it once before, she would do it again. She was not punished for her crime – what fear does she have of being caught again?”

Apollo cleared his throat and said, “I am not sure Zeus would be so forgiving to her for a second betrayal, though I doubt he would punish her as he did Prometheus. Perhaps she has been planning this for a long time and is confident in her success.”

“Wait, where is Athena anyhow?” Hermes asked looking around.

Apollo shook his head and said, “Oh messenger god, you really need to clear your head of that spring goddess. You are slipping…how can you not know about the war brewing between Athens and Persia?”

Hermes slapped his forehead but said nothing. Had he really let his obsession with Persephone consume him so much that he’d neglected his duties?

“Anyhow, we need proof that it’s Athena. She must be working with someone else – I just can’t imagine who,” Apollo said. “Say, Hermes, why don’t you visit Persephone and ask her in a roundabout way if she’s heard anything?”

Hermes’s face flushed and he stammered incoherently before looking off, back through the window, and uttering, “W-well, she won’t see me anymore.”

“Whyever not?”

“I-I’d rather not discuss it, but suffice to say she will not see me.”

Sighing, Apollo said, “Very well, what say you to visiting Athens to see if you can find out anything?”

Hermes nodded, eager to put distance between himself and Olympus and without another word, he walked off. Apollo watched as he left the room and then turned back to the window. Perhaps it was time for him to pull himself out of his daze and start acting like the god he was born to be.

**************

She stood just outside the temple to Athena Polias* looking out over her city under the setting sun. Her mind was consumed with the coming war. The Persians were bringing their vastly superior naval might and it would be hard for the Athenians to triumph. 

She heard footsteps but already knew whom it was – her troublesome brother, Ares. Younger and brash, he would bring chaos to the battlefield and little else. 

“Athena?” he asked and his voice was far softer than she would’ve expected, irritating her somehow.

Turning her head, she looked up at her younger brother’s massive form. “Yes?”

He looked down at her, genuine concern lining his face. “The Persians will be here within a week. I have prepared the soldiers as best I can, but this will be a difficult battle to win unless Sparta decides to join us.”

Athena looked back out over the city, the gentle and warm breeze brushing her inky hair into her face. Pushing it back behind her ears, she said, almost casually, “Sparta won’t come. They are not true brothers to the Athenians.”

The words were meant to bait Ares. _He_ knew that she knew he was revered more in Sparta than she and it only caused her to see the worst in Athens’s neighbors. “If mortals did not have their festivals, then we would go un-worshipped. I cannot fault them for adhering to the rules we’ve set for them,” he said simply.

She was taken aback by his surprisingly insightful response, wondering if she had underestimated him. After a pause, she said, “The Persians will come. They will destroy our smaller army. They will burn our temples. The mortals will die and we will go un-worshipped. This will weaken us.” Her voice was controlled as if she feared to betray any emotion.

Ares grunted and looked back out over the city, “I never thought I’d see a day when the great Athena was hopeless.”

Athena had no response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Old Temple: https://ancient-greece.org/architecture/old-temple.html
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a beast to get out - I had to lay the last of the groundwork before we get into the really good stuff (Battle of Marathon)!
> 
> PS - Halirrhothios is really hard to spell consistently. At least for me, lol!


	25. A Goddess, A Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huge Content Warning: rape and physical violence. The last section (I've also added ^ before the section begins). 
> 
> I'm not going to write a summary for this chapter beyond the warning above.

Apollo descended from Olympus shortly after Hermes left, heading towards Enna. While he had been in a rush to leave Zeus’s palace behind, he found the idea of visiting the spring goddess again to be a distasteful task. He had no doubt that he’d be able to find Persephone, but whether she would want to see him after the crass way in which he had tried to woo her, was another story. The thought caused him to delay.

He was unlucky in love, he knew, and some of that was the cruelty of the Fates, but some of it was his own perspective. Long had he desired a companion to share his life and long had he been denied this; when chance crossed Hyacinthus’s path with his, finally, he thought he’d found his partner. With the untimely death of the prince, he had become bitter, cruel to those he would attempt to love.

He had not been kind to Persephone, painting her a bleak future as the virgin daughter of Olympus’s biggest shrew, denied pleasures of the flesh should she reject him. He had used rude words, writing obscene songs to her to tempt her. It hadn’t worked. At first she tolerated him, but eventually the spring goddess had tired of his presence and had sent him away. When it had happened he had been numb to her rejection, but over time, the rejections of all of his would-be lovers made Apollo consider that he might be causing his own misery. It was only then, with that realization, that the shame for his previous behavior settled.

This was how he found himself sitting on a rock facing the pond she and her nymphs would visit. The nymphs had scattered as soon as he’d arrived, no doubt bringing word of his presence to their mistress. All he had to do was wait and the dread he felt inside irritated him.

Behind him the plants rustled and he could feel the barely contained energy of the goddess he sought. “Apollo,” she said coolly, “What brings you to my lands, _again?_ ” 

He stood up and turned around, bowing to her and approaching, saying, “I did not treat you well.” 

Persephone stood firm, her hands on her hips and her jaw set. When she did not respond, he continued, “I assure you that I am not always so unkind. You’ve…seen me at my worst.”

He paused, this time waiting for her to say something. After a few moments of silence, Persephone finally asked, “And is that it? You’ve come all this way to tell me you’re not the oaf you presented yourself as? Why should I believe you, or care, for that matter?” Her voice was not raised, but it was firm. After her recent wounding at the hands of Hermes, she was done tolerating fools in her life.

Apollo shrugged – he was so unused to these sorts of things. Even when he had been forced to serve the mortal king, Admetus, centuries ago as punishment for killing the serpent Delphyne, Apollo had felt no need to apologize. Indeed the punishment had been rather enjoyable as he had developed a deep passion for the king. When he had cursed his would-be lover, Cassandra, for forsaking him after he had bestowed upon her the gift of prophecy, he did not feel remorse when the bitter sting of rejection had subsided. Persephone was entirely different. He had wooed her dishonorably, his intentions never sincere. Finally, he said, “I cannot make you believe me.” 

Persephone was dissatisfied; if he truly meant to repair the damage done, he would apologize. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and said, “Oh, what was it you said to me the first time I told you no?” _‘See how your mother skulks around, angry. Without a gentle – or rough – hand, you will face the same fate. I have the power of prophecy and I predict it.’_ ”

Apollo nodded and said, “Not the most tactfully worded, I know.”

Persephone continued, “And then you said to me, _‘Your feminine cleft will seal itself shut for lack of use.’_ ”

Apollo winced, but said nothing, waiting for her to finish. He knew there was more.

Getting agitated now with the memories, Persephone threw up her hands and said, “And then, for some reason, you felt the need to come back to me after Hades had let me return to the mortal realm. What was it you said then?” She tilted her head back, peering down her nose at him.

Apollo said quietly, “I told you that you needed the god of light to burn away the cold seed left inside you by your husband.”

Persephone ground out, “Is that any way to speak to a woman, a goddess?”

Apollo briefly held his head in his hands and then looked up at her, saying, “No, it’s not. But I was punishing myself by punishing you.”

“Is that supposed to move me?”

“I suppose not, but it’s the truth. I lost someone close to me years ago and I can’t move on. And I know I shouldn’t, but I am angry at your husband for keeping his soul.”

Persephone wrinkled her brow and said, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Hades does not control when people die – the Fates do!”

Apollo threw up his hands, “I know! I know! I’m angry at them too!”

She turned around and made to leave, “Good-bye Apollo. I can’t say it was a pleasure catching up.”

He extended a hand, but she did not see it. Calling out, he said, “Wait! Wait! I am…sorry for the pain I caused you.”

Persephone stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at him, contemplating what she should do next. It would be easy to brush off his apology; after all, they never had a relationship prior to his “courtship.” Part of her knew that growing up in relative isolation had made it all too easy for her to dismiss others. Hadn’t Demeter done the same thing? Was that what she wanted for the rest of her life? The thought of forgiving him, though, made her choke. 

He looked at her hopefully, his golden curls framing his angular, golden features, and she had to resist the urge to laugh. This Apollo was so different from the aloof and arrogant fool that had teased her cruelly.

**************

Hermes wasted little time in arriving at Athens, eager to focus on anything that didn’t remind him of Persephone or Olympus. He may not have had a permanent place he called home, but his familiar locations had become hostile to him and he found it sad that the only place he felt comfortable now was facing a crucial battle against a fearsome foe.

He found Ares at the Acropolis, his arms crossed, staring out over the anxious city. “Brother, what news have you?” called out Hermes in his typically cheerful fashion which belied the swirl of emotions below.

Ares stood there and did not register his brother’s presence for a long while and Hermes grew restless, the wings of his sandals flapping a little. It was unlike Ares to be so concerned and serious about war; it was in his blood to savor the battle and revel in its chaos. So why now, with the prospect of a great enemy to defeat, did he seem worried? Finally, the god of war spoke without looking over at Hermes, saying, “Something is wrong.”

Hermes waited for him to continue. Just as he was about to ask for clarification, Ares said, “Athena no longer protects this city.”

“What?” Hermes asked, aghast. “Has she told you this?”

Ares shook his head and said, “No, she’d never outright tell me something important. But when I spoke with her not one week ago – on this very same spot – she told me, as if it were fact, that we would be defeated. I never thought I’d –” He cut himself off as he choked with emotion. Inside, his ichor boiled even as his extremities felt cold. Controlling his rising voice, he finished, “I never thought I’d see the day she gave up hope.”

Hermes’s heart fell into his stomach as he recalled his conversation with Apollo. This seemed further proof that Athena was trying to overthrow Olympus. Weaken the leader of the gods and the most important city in the Pantheon and a coup would be much easier to accomplish. Numbly, Hermes grabbed Ares’s arm and tugged. Ares looked down at his youngest brother and said, “Yes?”

The messenger god opened his mouth to say something, but then looked back at the temple of Athena Polias and thought for a minute. Looking back up at his brother, he said, “I think we need to go somewhere to talk.”

Ares wrinkled his chin, but followed his Hermes where he led.

**************

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Alcippe sighed and looked out of her window. She’d been awake for hours, but now that dawn was on the horizon, there was no use in pretending that she would be able to fall back to sleep. Her true father, Ares, had not visited her since their interaction weeks ago. Megacles had made it clear that she was all but married to Halirrhothios, a ceremony to be held after the battle with the Persians. And her mother, Aglauros, was unable to do anything to stop it. Feeling utterly alone, Alcippe slipped out of bed and tied on her robe before leaving her room.

Megacles had left a couple of days ago, leaving the house to just she and her mother and a handful of servants. The only consolation she had was that Halirrhothios was off with Megacles to the plains of Marathon. Deep in thought, she passed through the opulent, marble halls of the house which had come to feel like a prison to her. She felt no more than a shade which had been forsaken, left to walk the earth with no name or permanent place.

Outside, Alcippe took in a deep breath of the cool damp air, the scent of night still clinging to the moisture even as Helios began his ascent for the day. Having walked away from the house, she stood next to a stone fountain and turned to examine the place in which she had grown up. What would it be like to wake up in a different house? What would it be like to wake up as a wife? The reality of that future crushed the air out of her, even as she tried to take in deep breaths. Clutching her chest, she leaned forward and grasped at a cypress tree.

“Is my lady feeling unwell?” came the question, but the voice made her shudder.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the last person she’d hoped or wanted to see: Halirrhothios. “W-what are you doing here?”

He laughed a little, the short sound unnerving the young woman. She was suddenly aware of how alone she was, even though her house was within sight distance. He stepped forward and grasped her arms, to steady her, but it made her feel weak and trapped. “I came this morning to visit you, Alcippe.” Then, looking back at the house and then down at her, he smiled unkindly and said, “You are so far from the house.”

“It’s not appropriate for a young woman to have unchaperoned visits from a man,” she spit.

Halirrhothios stared down at her and laughed again, “I am to be your husband and your lord shortly. What does a day or two matter?” He could not understand why she was so repulsed by him.

“B-but I thought you were heading towards Marathon,” Alcippe said, trying to pull her arms free. 

He responded by squeezing his hands a little more tightly, saying, “Ah, Megacles has a special task for me here. It is the will and word of Athena by which he operates and I am more than happy to assist.”

Her fear was gaining, her breaths coming in short gasps as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her legs felt shaky and she was sure that if he let her go, she would fall to the ground in a heap at his feet. “W-w-well you should l-leave to handle that then.”

He stared at her, his eyes piercing through her own and deep into her soul. “Why are you so resistant to me?” he asked abruptly. When she didn’t respond, he pushed her back using his strong hands until she was pressed against the tree. The rough bark against her back made her arch away and cry out. 

Swiftly, Halirrhothios grabbed both of her wrists with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. “Uh-uh, no crying out. We wouldn’t want anyone to interrupt us.”

Her eyes widened and she began to pull violently away from him, trying to cry out as much as she could, but the sound was heavily muffled by his hand. He pressed her further against the tree and she could feel his arousal pushing against her abdomen.

With tears streaming down her face, Alcippe kicked him in the shin as hard as she could, which loosened his grip long enough for her to escape and begin running back to the house, crying out for help. Undeterred and ignoring the throbbing in his leg, he swiftly caught her and pushed her down to the ground with him. Now, laying completely on top of her, he replaced his hand over her mouth and looked down at her with all the seriousness of his intentions. He said, “It won’t hurt, unless you struggle.”

With tears streaming down her face, Alcippe kicked and thrashed against him with all of her might, but it was no use. Her energy depleted and her mind and body numb, she cried into his hand as he violated her and stole away her last bit of hope.

When he was done, Halirrhothios stood up and said casually, “You just need a little time to get used to it.” She lay on the ground, rolling to her side, violently shuddering; he could not understand why she hated this so much. Watching her carefully, he decided to tell her why he had held back, thinking that it would impress upon her the great future he had planned for them. “I must leave shortly. Fortune shines upon me and, consequently, you. After the Persians invade, they will obliterate the Athenians and march to Athens. With little to protect the city, I will unlock the gates and let them in. Once they topple the democracy, they will fold us into their empire. They will then take down Sparta. Once they leave our lands, we will re-establish the monarchy, under your father, Megacles, and gather the various states together. Athens will rise again as it was properly meant to be and I will ascend after Megacles – with you as my queen.” Crouching down next to her, he ran the palm of his hand gently over her face, saying in a near whisper, “It is only fitting that the son of a god should rule this grand city.”

Alcippe covered her face with her hands and wept, crying out “no” over and over again. Halirrhothios looked at her as if she were mad. “Woman,” he said, “for you are that now – you should acquaint yourself with this life. I expect that you will learn to behave as Athenian women do.” She dropped her hands and stared daggers at him, her breaths calming down, interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

He extended a hand for her, but Alcippe smacked it away and sneered at him, saying, “When my father finds out-”

He interrupted her with a laugh, saying, “Megacles supports this marriage. He will not care.”

Alcippe stood up, her fists balled at the side of her body, and said, “ _Not_ Megacles, I mean my father, Ares, the god of war!”

Halirrhothios paled, his mouth closed and the smile wiped from his face. He tried to talk, but found his speech dead. A ringing in his ears grew steadily as he watched the woman in front of him stare him down. Her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear it. He was dimly aware that his arm was moving, drawing his sword. He saw her face panic again as she turned to run back to the house. He watched as his other arm grabbed her and spun her around. And, finally, he observed that his right hand thrust his sword forward into her abdomen, the blood staining her white robes as he removed his sword.

When the ringing in his ears subsided, he witnessed her writhing on the ground, whimpering in pain. In a flash he saw his future end as he imagined what would happen if she survived. He could not allow everything he had worked towards to be erased now. He thrust his sword into her abdomen again and then quickly removed it, observing how she ceased moving. Then he ran off into the woods beyond Megacles’s property, his heart beating so fast he thought he might clutch it and die in a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was tough to write, so I assume it was tough to read. Thank you for doing so.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts.


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